


The Last Ray Of Sunshine

by MalkMcJorma



Series: Sunray [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Sex, F/M, Light BDSM, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 60
Words: 142,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalkMcJorma/pseuds/MalkMcJorma
Summary: Season 3 AU. Two Slayers, two Watchers and the Scoobies have everything pretty much in control. Then someone from long time ago arrives in Sunnydale, and an ancient conflict is about to be restarted.
Relationships: Angel/Buffy Summers, Daniel "Oz" Osbourne/Willow Rosenberg, Faith Lehane/Original Male Character
Series: Sunray [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765039
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue - Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've ever written. The gasp Buffy makes in "Prophecy Girl" when Xander and Angel have all but given up on the CPR was the "whoa" moment that made me start on this fic. I started thinking, "what could have possibly happened to her?", "did she see something?", "maybe she met someone."
> 
> Everything is pretty much canon up until "Revelations". But, hey, this is my AU and all deviations are "intentional". Faith's birthday is the 14th of December 1981, so she is 11 months younger than Buffy.
> 
> Rowan is... based on a comic book character and one cover illustration in particular that captivated my imagination. His inclusion is part of a natural progression from "maybe she met someone".

_26,500 years before present, Selenia_

A’Rowane Than’Shea regained consciousness with a feeble groan of pain. He managed to open his eyes by the width of a hair and saw a cracked ceiling with a few blinking light-rods above him. The stench of blood invaded his nose and he felt a massive weight on top of him that was pinning him against the floor. As he tried to turn his head to survey his surroundings, the sudden, sharp pain made him almost lose consciousness again.

‘ _I’m still alive,_ ’ was his first coherent thought as he closed his eyes to regain a modicum of control. On his next attempt he was able to see that the weight on top of him was a body which was in turn being weighed down by a collapsed wall. He had to have lost consciousness again from the effort, though, since the next he knew, someone was shaking his shoulder.

“Commander, please wake up. Please!” he heard an urgent voice close to his ear.

A’Rowane tried to form a reply but something sounding like “wstfgl?” was the only sound he was able to produce.

“Oh, thank the Light you’re alive, Framadar!” the voice said with audible relief. “Please, hold on. I’ll get you out of there.” Gradually the weight on top of A’Rowane lessened somewhat as the collapsed section of the wall was little by little moved aside. The body on top of him soon followed.

“Whistler?” A’Rowane was able to whisper now that he could draw breath again.

“Yes, Sir!” the person identified as Whistler replied.

“Wh-what happened?” A’Rowane asked. He remembered entering their makeshift field command post and then... nothing.

“There was an explosion, Sir. And it seems that... Sir, we appear to be the only survivors. I had just stepped outside when the blast threw me against a tree. Before I lost consciousness, I heard a few voices receding in the distance. And, Sir... I... I think one of them was the... your... Sir, I’m pretty sure it was Aryane.”

“She...,” A’Rowane started, feeling a coldness creep up his spine. ‘ _She what? Couldn’t possibly have betrayed us? Must be the victim of a set-up?’_

“Sir?”

‘ _Oh, Aryane,’_ A’Rowane sighed inwardly in awful realization. _‘Despite everything I still managed to underestimate the full depth of your ambitions. The influence you had and level of loyalty you inspired among the Companions were always...’_

“The other teams?” he asked hesitantly, fearing the answer.

“I haven’t been able to contact... _her_ yet, Sir,” Whistler answered. “Maybe you…?”

“Yes, and well done, Paygan. Now: heal me.”

“Gladly, Sir.”

* * *

“Aurora?” A’Rowane asked quietly sometime later in the same half-intact room.

Whistler had been able to procure him a somewhat clean white robe and a headband to keep back his shoulder-long black hair – now sticky with dried blood. It was a definite step-up from his blood-drenched and torn field uniform. His jewelled wristbands, which denoted his rank, were beyond repair; not that it mattered in the present circumstances, or, most likely, anymore, ever.

Whistler had also healed him to the best of his ability which meant that he could painfully move around and had maybe half of his mental and physical faculties available. He was now revitalized to such a level by the demon’s healing that his own spirit would be able to repair, slowly but still, the damage to his body. It had to suffice, for now.

The pain his body was experiencing was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Aryane had betrayed them, the last one he would have thought capable of that. Had he been careless and missed some vital clue? Had he been too focused on their specific task and paid insufficient attention to other factions with a vested interest in the outcome of their mission? But an explosion? That didn’t make any sense. Aryane alone could have used any of the Elements to level the place several times over without any external aid. That would have to wait, though. Aryane knew their plan through and through, and if she managed to alert the... other side, everything would be lost.

He let his gaze circle around the room. Now that the Paygan had removed the bodies of the rest of command team from the room, the only physical evidence of the recent massacre still remaining was the collapsed wall, the demolished furniture and the dark, multi-coloured blood stains on the floor and still-standing walls.

The body which had been lying on top of him belonged to Fiderrich, the Mok’tagar demon who insisted on coming with them on this mission as his bodyguard – a job the fierce but kind demon had taken very seriously. Fiderrich had fulfilled his job to the letter, shielding A’Rowane with his own body from the explosion and the building’s collapse. In the end, not even the vast regenerative powers Fiderrich’s kind possessed were able to save himself. The loss of the Mok’Tagar was especially mournful; the demon had been totally devoted to Aryane and him.

‘ _We still have time, though,’_ A’Rowane thought grimly, _‘Not much, but hopefully enough. It all depends on..._ ’

Suddenly a hazy sphere of bright white light appeared in front of him.

“Rowan?” came a soft female reply from the sphere.

A’Rowane released the breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding.

“We’re on-duty, darling,” he chided gently but his large almond-shaped eyes were smiling.

“Well, excuse me, _Framadar!_ ”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the Sylph’s perfectly delivered outrage. He had never found out if she could actually _feel_ outrage, or any other feelings for that matter. Even if she didn’t, she could fake them like a master. They had come a long way together, Aurora and he. He would be sad to see it end. It was inevitable, though, whatever the outcome. His mirth ended with a grimace as his ribs reminded him of their half-mended existence. He had to lean forward for support from a half-broken chair as he felt a wave of nausea take over him.

He was interrupted by the sound of a delicate cough at the door. He turned slowly and saw Whistler carrying a few rations and a container of water. It was a sign of his overall state that he had not been able to sense the demon’s approach.

“Hello, Wiz!” Aurora called happily.

Whistler’s ears flared deep red as he entered the room and laid the comestibles he had been able to salvage on a nearby table which appeared to be in a slightly better condition than the rest.

“She’s always had a soft spot for you, Paygan,” A’Rowane said with a smile.

Whistler mumbled something unintelligible, but the warm hue of his aura revealed that he was not altogether unresponsive to the Sylph’s “feelings”.

A’Rowane sighed and lowered himself slowly in the wobbly chair. He winced inwardly in pain. It would be a while before he could suppress the sensation; he hated that. He took one of the rations and gestured for Whistler to sit down.

“Aurora, status report. Paygan, you better eat as well,” he ordered.

“Yes, Sir!” both Aurora and Whistler answered simultaneously.


	2. Prologue - Part 2

_Approximately 1.5 years before present, the Void_

Buffy was floating in nothingness. Everywhere around her was a uniform light greyness, like a cloud, that seemed to fill the whole existence. There was nothing to give indication of orientation or distance... or time. She could see to infinity, perhaps, or no farther than a few inches beyond her nose. She looked down at herself and saw that she had a body, a naked one at that. For some reason that fact didn’t bother her as much as it should have.

‘ _Where am I_?’ she thought fleetingly.

She thought she could hear voices in the back of her mind shouting, “ _No, she’s not dead! ... She’s not breathing!_ ” She wondered briefly that she should know those voices, but she shook her head to clear them off.

“Hello! Am I dead?” her brain told her she said but no actual sound came out. It wasn’t the most intelligent question she could have asked but that was perhaps the least of her worries in the present circumstances. She tried again but managed only to gape like a fish.

‘You only need to think,’ she suddenly heard a clear voice in her head.

A boy or a young man clad in a simple white robe was suddenly standing/floating in front of her just as if he had materialized in place. At the same time, she felt solid ground beneath her feet even though nothing visible had changed. She knew she should feel embarrassed, or actually panicked, about her nakedness but, for some reason, she couldn’t summon the related emotions.

Instead she stared at the light-brown face that was looking back at her with open curiosity. She felt totally lost for words trying to describe it. It had all the standard features, two ears, two eyes, nose, mouth, but it was... alien, in a totally jaw-dropping way.

Normally Buffy would have fired all her countless questions at once without waiting for answers in between, but, strangely, that didn’t seem appropriate. She collected herself and tried to be not at all flustered by this strange encounter she was a participant in, naked. So, she managed to trim her questions to only two, initially.

‘Am I dead? Are you an angel?’ she tried to think about saying (‘ _Angel?_ ’). She couldn’t help but move her lips anyway.

‘You are here in spirit only, which means you probably _are_ dead,’ the boy replied narrowing his large, amber eyes a little. ‘Don’t you remember what happened to you?’

Disjointed memories started coming back to her. The Anointed One... The cave... The Master... The pain.

‘You’re a Slayer,’ the boy interrupted her thoughts. ‘That’s probably why you’re here, Buffy Summers.’

‘How do you know my name... and that other thing?’ she asked somewhat perplexed.

‘I can read your surface thoughts. In this place it’s easy since thoughts shape what passes as reality here. That’s also why we can understand each other, even though we are from different times and places. You have a strong mind but undisciplined. Otherwise you could see my thoughts as well, beyond the... stream I’m sending your way. As to the other thing, I know about the line of Slayers and how the Shadowmen created it. My time was... most likely long ago but the line of Slayers was already ancient by then.’

‘Well, excuse me for being undi... un-whatever.’ This was getting too deep for her to handle. ‘You’d expect death to do that to you. Wait, hold on! Am I going to spend my afterlife here? With you?’ Suddenly dying didn’t seem such a bad proposition to her.

‘This... place is the Void between realms, or worlds, as you would probably know them, and no, this place will not be your final destination.’

‘Who are _you_ , then?’

‘My name is A’Rowane, and to answer your earlier question, no, I’m not what you call... an angel, at least I don’t think so. I’ve been stuck here for... probably a very long time, judging by your appearance. The humans in my time were... different.’

‘What did you mean about that “thoughts shaping reality” thingy you mentioned earlier?’ Buffy tried to hold on to something familiar.

‘Just that. Try to imagine having some clothes on.’

She closed her eyes with a furrowed brow as she tried to picture herself fully dressed.

‘Very nice,’ she heard A’Rowane say approvingly.

She startled and opened her eyes. Looking down she breathed out in surprise. She was wearing a long, form-hugging snow-white dress with separate sleeves and narrow straps which left her shoulders almost bare. From behind the dress was long enough to flow on what was passing as ground at the moment.

‘I... I... this wasn’t what I had in mind.’

‘Undisciplined, see,’ the boy said, smiling.

There was a long silence between them, and Buffy could once again hear those urgent voices in the back of her head. “ _CPR! ... You have to do it. I have no breath._ ” From the boy’s expression, she could tell that he had heard the voices as well – probably in her mind.

‘I have to go back, haven’t I?’ she suddenly realized.

‘You have a choice. If you decide not to, I have a feeling the Powers will grant you peace. You also know that with your death a new Slayer has already taken your place.’

‘Are you lonely?’ she asked.

A’Rowane’s lips turned to a sad smile. ‘It’s very peaceful here after all that happened. It’s impossible to reckon time’s passage and I think I have been asleep for most of my time here.’

‘Couldn’t you come back with me?’

‘I’m sorry,’ A’Rowane said apologetically. ‘I’m still bound here, physically. My way out, if one should ever manifest, will be different from yours.’

A’Rowane could see that Buffy had reached her decision and nodded approvingly.

‘Will I... will I see you again?’ she asked mournfully. In their brief time together, she had come to like the dark-haired boy with an elfin face who shared this infinity with her.

‘It’s... unlikely, given the circumstances. But if events move in some unforeseen ways, we might see each other again.’

‘Will I remember any of this?’

The only answer was A’Rowane’s solemn gaze.

‘Ok. What happens now?’

The boy seemed to listen to something, and then closed the final distance between them. Had Buffy had breath, it would have gotten stuck in her throat. She could swear her non-present heart was suddenly beating very fast. She looked deeply into the boy’s eyes that seemed to glow from within as he took her into a soft embrace and touched her ethereal brow with his lips.

‘Now, live.’

* * *

Eyes snapping wide open, Buffy awoke with a gasp. It felt like her chest was on fire.

“Buffy?” a voice said close to her ear.

She coughed and spluttered, and a stream of foul-tasting water came gushing out of her mouth.

“Row...?” she started before another fit of coughing made her stop. When she could once again collect her thoughts, she felt she should remember something important but couldn’t quite recall what.

“Buffy?” the voice questioned again.

She blinked her eyes a couple of times and turned her head towards the voice. “Xander?”

“Welcome back.”

* * *

A’Rowane looked sadly at the slowly closing aperture through which he could see Buffy being helped to her feet by two persons. One of them was a soul-sucker, by his lack of aura, but there was something... different about him. The Slayer also seemed to trust him. Interesting.

‘What happens now?’ he asked the same question Buffy had asked him before departing.

‘NOW IT BEGINS.’


	3. Chapter 3

_Present time, Sunnydale_

Buffy was sitting on a couch in the Bronze, idly watching Oz and his bandmates set up their gear on the stage. The club was really getting crowded tonight; the popularity of The Dingoes seemed to have increased noticeably since their last gig there. Sipping her drink, she leisurely scanned the floor for any vampires who might have arrived early.

“See, Willow, that’s the Eye of the Slayer right there,” she heard a voice say next to her. She was suddenly aware of Willow and Xander sitting down on both sides of her.

“Hey Buffy,” Willow greeted her. “Any sightings of undead Dingo groupies? Wow, it’s so crowded. Even vamps would have hard time breathing here.”

“They don’t, Will,” Xander reminded her.

“So, what you been doing so far, Buff?” Willow asked ignoring Xander’s comment.

“Had a drink, sat down, pinged the sonar. That’s pretty much it for Buffy Sonnars. Nothing to write poems about.”

“Hey, what say you we take it to the dance floor?” Xander asked enthusiastically. “Maybe the poetry would start writing itself. Bodies moving sensuously, touching, feeling...”

“Xander, you’re drooling,” Willow said with a smirk.

“Ok, drinks anyone? Cold drinks, lots of ice,” Xander said in a rush and stood up, at the same time trying to nonchalantly wipe his mouth with his sleeve.

Cordelia navigated her way to where they were sitting. She was frowning in annoyance as she stopped next to Xander. “Can I just say that this place was way classier before it got so popular?”

“Oh, the burdens of being a trend-setter,” Xander said turning his eyes heavenwards and putting his arm around Cordelia.

“Well lucky you, never having had to actually carry that particular burden.”

“I’ll go get the drinks.”

They sat in silence watching Xander elbow his way to the bar and then back with drinks for all. “So, Buffy. You got a date for tonight?” Willow asked enthusiastically. “Unless you don’t, and you should forget I ever asked,” she continued as her brain caught up with her mouth. She lowered her eyes to her drink feeling her cheeks redden.

“I wouldn’t use the word ‘date’. But I’m going out with somebody,” Buffy replied brightly, sounding slightly mysterious.

“Really? Who?”

“What’s up?” Faith asked, appearing out of nowhere. She jumped over the back of the couch, landing between Buffy and Willow. She was practically sitting on both girl’s lap. “Hey, Red, X-Man, Queen C,” she greeted everyone. “Time to motorvate, B.”

“We’re really just good friends,” Buffy said smiling and wrapped her arm around the brunette’s shoulders.

* * *

“Good evening, Buffy, Faith. So kind of you to find time in your undoubtedly busy calendars for actual patrolling,” Giles greeted them at the cemetery gates. He seemed to be appropriately dressed for the chilly November night. He was also carrying a small shoulder bag out of which the top of a tartan-patterned thermos could be seen.

“Ok, G-Man. The Chosen Two ready for dusting,” Faith said, eager to deal out some violence.

Giles smiled at the younger Slayer’s enthusiasm and checked his notes. “Tonight, I thought we’d work on your co-ordination while in the middle of a fight.”

“Ooo, sounds fun,” Buffy said with a smile. She saw that Faith also seemed pleased at the prospect.

“Indeed,” Giles nodded. “We are in the unique situation of having two active Slayers working together. Remember that it’s important you both hone your individual fighting skills. But being instinctively aware of each other in the middle of an intense fight can be just as important. You need to be able to support each other, not get into each other’s way, like you most likely would without practice.”

“Lead the way, G,” Faith said enthusiastically.

“Right then, girls,” Giles said and re-adjusted his glasses. “There’s been an unusual amount of vampire activity in this area lately which makes it perfectly suitable for our purposes...”

“Got it. There’s one, that sucker’s mine!” Faith ran past Giles, who still had his mouth half-open, as a vampire appeared from behind a mausoleum.

Buffy spotted another one on the other side of the mausoleum and also raced into action.

“Watch and learn, Giles,” she called behind her. She saw Faith knock her opponent over a stone bench with a flying kick.

She engaged her opponent with a few high punches which the vampire blocked easily. She was just testing him, warming up; she didn’t want to pull any muscles fighting cold. She tried a few low kicks next, followed by a lightning fast roundhouse to his side. The vampire spun by the impact but managed to catch her across the face with a lucky punch. Thinking he had stunned her, the vampire moved in to grab her. She allowed him to come close before catching and twisting his wrist first one way and then the other. The momentum threw him to the ground.

She risked a glance at Giles who was calmly sitting on another stone bench pouring tea from the thermos to a plastic cup. Close by, Faith had just grabbed her opponent’s ankle after a missed kick and flipped him over backwards near to where Buffy was standing.

Both vampires got groggily back to their feet not noticing that they were standing back to back. Buffy and Faith pulled out their stakes like in one smooth motion and simultaneously thrust them in their corresponding opponent’s chest.

“Synchronized Slaying! A new Olympic category,” Buffy announced triumphantly and high-fived Faith who was smiling at her with dimples fully prominent. It was a sight not too often seen. It made Faith’s already beautiful face look radiant.

They walked back to where Giles was sipping his tea.

“So, G, how was that?” Faith asked expectantly, her voice light.

“Sloppy,” a woman’s voice spoke from the darkness.

They all turned to look, Giles with the teacup half-way to his lips, as a smartly dressed young woman walked out from behind a row of bushes and approached them. She was holding a memo pad and a stopwatch.

“You telegraph punches,” the woman said looking first at Faith, then at Buffy. “You leave blind sides open and, for a school-night slaying, take entirely too much time. Which one of you is Faith?”

Buffy and Giles turned their heads to look at the brunette.

“Depends,” Faith said defiantly and crossed her arms over her chest. “Who the hell are you?”

Buffy and Giles turned back to the newcomer, looking like spectators in a tennis match.

“Gwendolyn Post. Your new Watcher.”

* * *

Buffy watched with incredulity as Ms Post swept about the library as if owning the place, running a disdainful eye over Giles’ prized book collection. Giles was nervously cleaning his glasses and Faith was standing by the long study table glaring at the older woman.

“Listen, lady. I’m telling you I don’t need a new Watcher. No offence, but I have this slight problem with authority figures. They tend to end up kinda dead.” Having said that, Faith sat down next to Buffy and slouched in the chair.

Buffy briefly wondered about Faith’s anti-watcher sentiments. On the other hand, she knew Faith envied her because she had Giles. That made no sense. Then it hit her. ‘ _Kakistos._ ’

“Duly noted,” Ms Post nodded, turning to face Faith. “Fortunately, the decision is not yours. However, on a more personal note, I was sorry to hear about poor Diane Seymour. We were together at the Academy for a short while. I didn’t know her personally, but I know she was well-liked.”

Buffy realized her mouth was hanging open. She shut it with an audible click.

Ms Post turned to face Giles. “Mr Giles. Where do you keep the rest of your books?”

Giles blinked a few times and put his glasses back on. “I’m sorry, the rest?”

“Yes, the actual library.” She paused for a moment. “Oh, I see.”

Buffy could see Giles get defensive. “I assure you, Ms Post, this is the finest occult reference collection...”

“...this side of the Atlantic,” Ms Post finished the sentence. “I’m sure. Do you have ‘Hume’s Paranormal Encyclopaedia’?”

Buffy could see Giles’ shoulders stoop. “...’The Labyrinth Maps of Malta’?”

Then, to Buffy’s amazement, Ms Post glanced in her and Faith’s direction and she could swear she saw an almost imperceptible smile touch the woman’s lips. She and Faith exchanged glances.

“Well, I suppose you have the ‘Spates Catalogue’? How about ‘Tobin’s Spirit Guide’?”

Buffy and Faith looked at each other slack-jawed. Had they just heard right? Had the woman actually _joked_? “ _Ghostbusters_ ,” Faith mouthed, and Buffy nodded.

“They are on order,” Giles muttered, looking dejected. Buffy felt slightly sorry for the Watcher but, at the same time, she felt like something important had shifted.

“Now, in addition to my duties as Faith’s Watcher, I was sent here by the Council in another capacity as well,” Ms Post continued. “Faith, Buffy! Sit up and pay attention.”

To her eternal surprise Buffy did as commanded and saw Faith do the same. Her sister Slayer seemed oddly chastised.

“Now wait just a minute, Ms Post,” Giles raised his voice and stood up. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t order _my_ Slayer around.”

Instead of answering, Ms Post produced a sealed envelope from her purse. “The Council has deemed it prudent to have your performance evaluated as well. I’m to report back on my observations. Furthermore, under the Seal of the Council, I have been authorized to countermand any of your orders to your Slayer. Rest assured, Mr Giles, I won’t be usurping your position unless absolutely necessary.”

Faith looked perplexed. “What’s all that mean?”

“You’re on probation, Mr Giles,” Ms Post answered, looking from Faith to Giles.

She turned back to Faith and Buffy. “Girls, it’s late. We’ll start properly tomorrow but now I think it’s time you sought bed. Mr Giles, a few private words before we leave if you please?”

“Erm, yes, very well. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please. Good night, Faith, Buffy.”

* * *

“So, whaddya think of Mary Poppins, B?” Faith asked as they were walking in the direction of her motel.

“Dunno,” Buffy shrugged. “She seems competent, in a totally annoying way.”

“I think she was playing us, judging our reactions. And we fell for it, big time.”

“Hey! When did you become a psych major?”

* * *

“I think we got off on the wrong foot here, Mr Giles,” Ms Post said after Giles had returned from his office with a tea tray. “I apologize for my behaviour but I judged the approach I took necessary in order to get an unfiltered initial view of the situation here. Otherwise, I fear, you’d all have appeared overly courteous and only shown me a carefully constructed Potemkin village.”

“Look, Ms Post. I’m not sure what you expected but in case you didn’t know, we are sitting right on top of a Hellmouth. But before I go any further, I really need to verify that you are who you say you are.”

“Of course, Mr Giles,” Ms Post nodded. “I expected you to request that immediately upon our arrival here. Don’t worry, I’m not going to put that in my report, although it’s a clear violation of the established process.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “The code word is ‘Cassandra’.”

Giles went back to his private office and dialled an international number. The beeping on the line indicated a busy connection. After the tenth beep he said “Cassandra”. Then he waited for the twentieth beep and nodded to himself when the busy tone changed subtly. He hung up the receiver and put the steel-reinforced ironwood mace he had been fingering back under the desk.

“Very well, you check out, Ms Post.” He sat down opposite the new Watcher and poured her and himself tea.

“I think we can drop the formalities, Mr Giles. It’s Gwen.”

“Very well, Gwen. I’m Rupert.”


	4. Chapter 4

An indeterminate time after A’Rowane had met the Slayer girl, or maybe no time had passed at all, there was another disturbance in the unchanging eternity of the Void. A swirling vortex suddenly bisected the emptiness from infinity to infinity. He didn’t waste time gaping at it. Instead, he immediately willed himself to its side. The vortex remained static; the only feature in the Void that didn’t seem to be subject to spatial dimension twisting.

‘ _That’s a true Portal,_ ’ he thought. ‘ _Acathla? But who...?_ ’

He could feel a... someone within the vortex.

‘ _That’s the soul-sucker I saw with Buffy!’_ ’ he wondered. ‘ _He must have... and now he’s..._ ’

The flow of the vortex was already dissipating when he heard a commanding voice in his head.

‘GO!’

There was as sudden reversal of the flux, something he would have thought impossible. He dived in.

* * *

The large and mostly forgotten sub-sub-basement of Sunnydale High School was damp and mouldy, and patches of fungus grew here and there. It wasn’t totally dark, though. Embedded in the natural rock floor a silvery disc glowed with a dim but steady luminance. The disc was perhaps six feet in diameter and featured engraved symbols whose meaning was long forgotten to almost everyone currently living on Earth. It had been in place, though not always right _there_ , for thousands of years, performing a vital function. It sealed a Soft Place, a Hellmouth.

The steady glow of the Seal was suddenly intensified by several magnitudes and the room it inhabited was basked with a sun-like brightness. The intense light remained only for a few seconds and when it dimmed back to its original level, it had left behind a still form lying on top of the silvery Seal.

The figure opened its eyes in the gloom.

“Free,” it whispered in a language the Seal would have recognized had it been sentient. That language had been used by its makers.

* * *

Lying on what felt like cool metal, A’Rowane screamed as true sensations invaded his senses after... an eternity. There was space and time, there was himself... his voice.

He was kneeling on the glowing metal disc, his forehead pressed against its cool surface, his hands covering his pointed ears. ‘ _How long? How long since the sealing? The girl, Buffy, so different. Even she may be ancient history. Everyone... no-one. Why me? Why now?’_

He slowly let his hands rest on the metal disc. Touching the cool, uneven surface, a memory of something familiar made him open his eyes. ‘ _The Seal of Fire! And it’s still locked. But there are... leaks? Aurora!_ ’

Standing up and swaying like a drunken sailor on dry land, he stepped away from the Seal and into the world. It took a while for him to find his balance again; there had been gravity in the Void only if he had remembered to think of it. Raising his hand straight in front of him and moving it to the side in a slow arc, he tried to judge the dimensions of the room he was in. He didn’t want his second step to bring him nose first into a wall.

He was naked, a notion that was far down on any list of important things to take care of. He had been wearing a robe in the Void but that had vanished. He was fairly certain that travelling between the realms by a Portal didn’t allow one to bring any accessories with them. Soft Places, like the one that had been his way in, didn’t have such restrictions.

He could see quite well in the gloom; a human would have been almost blind. The floor and three of the walls were natural, but one of the walls appeared to have been built. How long ago? He couldn’t say. The notion of claustrophobia or being buried alive never entered his mind. It was an alien concept to someone, like him, who could access the raw elements – Air, Earth, Fire, Water and Spirit – and force them to obey his commands.

He circled the room once but it didn’t appear to have any visible or hidden exits. Then, after drawing a deep breath, he focused his will to really feel the rock. Sliding his hand along the walls, he sensed an emptiness beyond the built one. He stepped to where the built wall met the natural rock and opened himself further to really channel Earth. He laid his hands on the rock wall and moved them slightly apart. The rock parted like a curtain under his hands, creating a short passageway to a tunnel outside, past the built wall. The tunnel ran adjacent to the built wall and ended in one direction just where the room ended. In the other direction it continued beyond the range of his vision. Once outside the room, another brief touch closed the hole as if it had never been there. Closing the wall also blocked the faint glow of the Seal, and he was left in pitch blackness which even his sensitive eyes could not pierce.

He had to take support from the wall as he felt close to blacking out when the conduit to Earth inside him dissipated; he still wasn’t fully oriented with the normal reality. He would also have to conserve energy as he had no idea how deep underground he was and he might have to repeat the previous performance before he could find a way outside. That also prevented him from accessing Fire to give him light. The same applied to Air but that element appeared old and stale even to his normal senses; there were no nearby vents to the surface.

Manoeuvring by touch, he moved slowly along the tunnel which spiralled upwards, and soon he came to a cave-in. It wasn’t very deep and there was just enough room to crawl over it. Beyond it was a larger space based on the echoes from the sound of a few falling stones. He decided to risk it and made a faint flame appear on his palm.

He was in a large, rectangular room with one of its walls being part of the cave-in. On the other side of the room were rusty metal stairs which led up to a door. The door wasn’t locked but based on the squeaking of the hinges, it hadn’t been opened in quite a while. On the other side of the door was another room, well-maintained and lit by a single bar of light fixed to the ceiling. This second room was dry and warm and there was an old-looking mattress in one corner. He practically fell onto the mattress and was instantly asleep.

* * *

Mike Catterell walked down the service tunnel beneath Sunnydale High, whistling to himself. He had run out of graffiti remover and the only remaining stash was in the old coal storage room which he sometimes used as a drinking retreat. He cursed when he opened the door and noticed he had left the lights on. It had been a week since his last visit and, even though he didn’t have to worry about the electricity bill, he still felt a pang of guilt about the waste of energy. Then he saw the naked body lying face down on the mattress he used for passing out. ‘ _Oh fuck, someone died here_ ,’ he thought briefly before seeing the body’s shoulders move in synch with regular breathing.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be in here!” he yelled and grabbed his three-battery Maglite, just in case the person was on PCP or something equally nasty. The sleeping person stirred at his voice and slowly rose to his knees. Even from behind Mike could now see that the form belonged to a boy. Then the boy turned his head around to face him.

“Whoa! Hey! Who... what are you?”

A’Rowane couldn’t understand the man’s words but he could hear the bewilderment in his voice. ‘ _Damn! Should I nod, shake, shrug or what to indicate I don’t understand?_ ’ He went for the signal that back then had meant peace. He held his arms in front of him palms up.

“Oh, you don’t speak English. But you... your face...” Mike fell silent as the boy stood up.

Mike knew he was gay even though he had never found the courage to act upon his orientation. He was twenty-one, closing in on twenty-two, and still a virgin. Now he found himself getting a somewhat painful erection just by looking up and down the slim but muscular form of the boy before him.

‘ _Hmm, he’s feeling attraction. Maybe it would be better to try to get him to help instead of just knocking him out. Speaking is out, but maybe he’ll understand mimicry.’_ A’Rowane indicated his body and then tried to act out the process of pulling on trousers and putting on a shirt.

“Oh, you’ve lost your clothes," Mike realized. "Did someone pull a prank on you? Made you drink enough to pass out and then dump you here without clothes. I think I have some old overalls here, but... but.” He was torn between caution and curiosity. ‘ _Just a touch, maybe he won’t mind._ ’ He took a step forward and raised his hand to touch the boy’s chest. His heart was beating almost painfully fast and his mouth felt dry as sandpaper, so he didn’t pay attention to the sudden narrowing of the boy’s amazing eyes. The next he knew he was lying on his belly on the mattress, his arm twisted painfully behind his back.

“Ok, ok, I’ll get you clothes,” he managed to croak. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” The boy had to be Oriental, he suddenly realized. Maybe somewhere over there lived more people like him with such perfect features and huge eyes that seemed to glow. Amidst the pain originating from his arm he swore to look into it and perhaps take a vacation there sometime in the future.

The faded overalls felt itchy on A’Rowane’s body. He had had to turn the legs and sleeves several times for them to be of the correct length but they would keep him warm and hopefully somewhat inconspicuous. He would have to continue on bare feet but this was a definite improvement. He turned to face the man, who now kept a respectful distance, and touched his own chest briefly with his right palm; a show or respect and thanks.

“Eh, no need. I... I’ll...” Mike didn’t know how to continue. He knew he had fallen hopelessly in love and that he had a new fantasy to fill his solitary masturbation sessions. “...I’ll walk you out. You probably don’t even know how you got here.”

Remembering to take the can of graffiti remover from the closet, he motioned for the black-haired boy to go ahead of him out through the door so that he could lock it behind them. He frowned when the boy just stood there, looking at him. Then it dawned on him.

“Oh, you’re a cautious one, aren’t you? Black belt and all in ninjutsu, eh? Don’t want anyone to get behind you. I’ve seen the movies. That was some move you used on me, by the way. Ok, you follow me.”

It was apparently night-time and the large building they entered from below was deserted. A’Rowane was thinking furiously. ‘ _It’s been quite long, obviously. Humans have built this, so they have advanced quite far. This man who found me is probably not at the top of their society’s ladder but even he is far above the tribal humans who lived back then. I don’t understand him, but the language he speaks appears to be rich in words and idioms._ ’

They had reached a small door at what appeared the back of the building and stood just outside it. Mike was once again lost for words but at the same time wanted to prolong the inevitable goodbye. He took a pen and a piece of paper from his pocket and wrote his phone number on the slip. He carefully offered it to the boy who took it with a curious look.

“Look, I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but maybe we could meet sometime. Just... gimme a call, ok?”

A’Rowane looked at the man in the eyes and said, “I’m in your debt.”

Mike nodded like he had understood, went back inside the building and closed the door behind him.

A’Rowane stood there outside the building, taking in the cool night air and pocketed the piece of parchment. A human from the same time as he, dropped into his situation, would most likely have panicked and probably gotten themselves killed in short order. A’Rowane Than’Shea, Framadar of the Companions of Light, surveyed the scene like an unfamiliar battlefield and calmly analysed what he had available.

‘ _Right, then._ 1) Situation, 2) Enemy, 3) Assets, 4) Terrain, 5) Time, 6) Mission _. Situation: The Powers sent you back to the world for reasons of their own. Enemy: The Hegemon. Assets: Building supervisor with a crush; faded overalls; a name, Buffy Summers. Terrain: A Soft Place, location unknown. Time: Most likely late evening, era unknown. Mission: Initially, fill in the blanks with the previous five items._ ’ Judging by the building supervisor’s reaction, it didn’t appear to be prudent to walk around with his true appearance. So, he reached inside and drew the glamour upon himself. He wouldn’t be able to access the elements with the glamour on, but he judged it to be an acceptable trade-off for now.

Getting back to the mission at hand, A’Rowane knew the optimal solution would be to find someone in this time and place who could speak the Old Tongue. He didn’t know, yet, if any demons still roamed the world, and the items on his current list of assets probably couldn’t help him there. Then there was the Enemy. ‘ _This is a Soft Place and our Seals hold. There is seepage, though... Time is truly a cruel mistress. If I could find a Reflection... But for that I first need to expand my list of assets considerably_.’

The time was still unknown and would probably remain so for the unforeseeable future, but the terrain he could reconnoitre.

The large metal contraption looked unfamiliar to his eyes, but he could see that it was meant for transporting people using an internal power source. ‘ _Speed, unknown. Noise level while mobile, unknown. Better watch out and not get run over by accident._ ’

The backyard of the building was surrounded by a stone wall with a large metal gate blocking the entryway. He went to a corner of the wall and agilely jumped on top of it flattening himself there in the shadow of a bushy tree branch. In the distance he could see these metal transports moving along paved roads. One drove past the wall and he could see people inside operating the controls. It was quite noisy, and the approximate speed was now known to him.

Farther away he could see something which looked like a green or a park. He was getting hungry and knew that his best bet to find something comestible would be to catch it in the wild. He didn’t know if there were places here where you could buy food, or steal in his situation, so he quietly lowered himself on the ground outside the wall and cautiously headed towards the park.

It wasn’t a park; it was a place of burial. Feeling initially relieved that his lack-of-food problem was so easily resolved, he quickly noticed to his disappointment that the people in this time didn’t leave food offerings for the deceased. Walking farther into the quiet grounds, he tried to identify the trees, bushes and plants he passed. None seemed to bear any nuts, fruit or berries. Then he passed by a bench beside which stood a mid-sized capped barrel. There was a large aperture near the topside of the barrel and as he watched, a large grey-black bird flew out of it – a crow – with something in its beak. He smiled – a compost heap.

As a warrior he was used to eating just about anything that moved or crawled... or had recently ceased doing either on its own. So, he started pulling out unfamiliar wrappings and other containers. Some of them still had traces of food which he eagerly licked away. He wasn’t worried about parasites or poisons. Short of something enchanted, he knew he was immune to anything nature-based that would sicken or kill a human.

There wasn’t much to eat in what he could fish out from the compost but even that helped. He _could_ force his body to operate by the strength of his spirit beyond the body’s normal endurance. It would be painful but doable. That wasn’t an option, though, at least not for now. ‘ _Adjust and adapt_ ,’ he reminded himself.

After carefully cleaning the area of the tracks of his “dinner”, he sat down on the bench to contemplate on his next move. Before he could come to any decisions, he heard a growl from somewhere behind him; a sound he recognized well. He stood up instantly and headed for the sound’s origin. There, ahead of him, a fledgling soul-sucker was pushing itself out of a burial mound. He knew he should disintegrate it as a matter of course but, on the other hand, this was the first real connection to his own time. He didn’t know if fledglings in this time were still as mindless as they had been back then, but he decided to give it a try. He walked steadily to the burial mound and stopped a few yards away. He waited until the soul-sucker had completely exhumed itself before making his presence known to it.

“You!” he addressed it, extending his aura to assert his superiority; a trick that used to work on fledglings. “Can you understand me?”


	5. Chapter 5

Faith was patrolling alone, something she still liked to do every now and then. She really enjoyed working together with Buffy, especially now that the improvements in their co-operation were starting to show. But, occasionally, she still longed back to the days when it had been just her and Diane. It wasn’t bad, being in the position of what was basically the junior member of the Chosen Two team, but sometimes the people around them seemed to forget that she was as much a Slayer as Buffy – not a second string.

She had always been a lone wolf, unlike Buffy, who had her gang of Scoobies around her. Diane had tried to bring her out of her shell, and probably even succeeded a little, but then Kakistos happened. Now there was Gwendolyn Post, a competent and demanding Watcher. After the initial prejudices had faded somewhat, Faith decided that, yes, she could work with the woman. Compared to Diane, who had been emphatic and warm, basically a surrogate mother and big sister combined, Post was an Ice Queen. Interested in results only, her new Watcher kept their relationship strictly on the professional level. Faith knew she would never confide in the woman, like she had done in Diane, but she had a Watcher again and that brought her some much-needed self-confidence.

Buffy’s Scooby gang, Xander and Willow in the inner circle and Cordelia and Oz somewhere very close, had gradually accepted Faith in their group. She still felt occasionally somewhat like a hang-around member, even though there might not have been any real reason for that – her old insecurities fully at work. She still sometimes cringed inwardly when she remembered her arrival to Sunnydale – the flamboyant slaying of the vampire in the alley behind the Bronze and her tales of ‘gator rasslin’. She had wanted so much to impress the older and more experienced Slayer, and gain her respect, that she had been almost trembling with nervousness the whole time. She had originally been slightly devastated by Buffy’s cool welcome but quickly realized that the blonde Slayer couldn’t be fooled by tall tales. Only after Faith had proven herself in the field, did Buffy warm up to her. This had raised Faith respect of the older Slayer more than a fawning welcome could ever have. They were slowly working towards a true friendship and, as Faith sometimes secretly hoped, something even more than that.

There was one, big issue blocking that, though. Her sister Slayer was straighter than an arrow, or at least projected a very convincing straight front. Faith had her doubts, though. Even though she had only herself to compare to, she sometimes wondered if a Slayer could ever be fully straight – what with the H&H’s demanding their release after a good slay. ‘ _Low-fat yogurt. Yeah, right,_ ’ she snorted. She remembered a saying an old friend in Boston had once told her: ‘ _Most girls are straight... until they aren’t._ ’ So, she would cling to that “until”, well, until something happened on its own. She had enough self-control not to jeopardize their still-forming friendship with a momentary lapse of reason. For the purely mechanical act of getting herself off, she had her nimble fingers and Mr Purple, her 8” heavy-duty vibrator. And when she occasionally got bored and wanted something living to scratch her itch against, she rarely had to go beyond the first bar.

Xander had an obvious crush on her, regardless of his relationship with Cordelia. Faith wasn’t really interested in him “that way” but still flirted with him shamelessly, but good-naturedly, enjoying the obviously horny boy’s discomfort and his hungry eyes all over her assets. Queen C was a “safe” choice, Faith represented both danger and primitive and feral urges.

Willow acted friendly when Faith was around but it was obvious that she envied Faith for the two Slayers’ recent closeness. Willow and Buffy had been best friends almost since the older Slayer moved to Sunnydale, but now Buffy had an equal in their gang – someone who could understand her like no-one else.

Oz was... well, Oz. He had accepted Faith as a matter of course. They hadn’t exchanged that many words between them but his easy acceptance of her had earned him her gratitude. It had clearly helped with the others, too; they trusted Oz’s wolf instincts.

Cordelia was a cool chick; nice to have a few drinks with at the Bronze. They had even met a few times for coffee once Queen C realized that Faith was no threat to her stature in Sunnydale’s social circles.

Faith had also semi-seriously flirted with the cheerleader – just to check out for future prospects – but been gently turned down; Cordelia Chase’s door swung one way only and that was in the general direction of the menfolk. Queen C had been nice about the whole thing and told her that if she were into chicks, the hot brunette Slayer would definitely be at the top of her list of interests. Faith had never taken rejection well, but this time there had been no bad blood or resentment and they stayed as occasional friends.

All things considered; things were generally well with Faith Lehane. Still, her Watcher had occasionally hinted at Scooby meetings Faith knew nothing about. She didn’t know whether she had been left out by choice or accident. She was leaning towards accident herself, knowing that the “Old Guard” sometimes just fell back to their old ways without thinking. Sometimes it did hurt a little to think that they might consider her nothing but additional firepower in a case of emergency, but she was used to that. Over the course of her life she had become very good at burying unwanted emotions to avoid more hurt. But, all doubts aside, she was slowly starting to feel like she really _belonged –_ a warm and happy feeling she had felt basically never before.

A growl brought her to full alertness. Snatching a stake out of one of the pockets sewn inside her denim jacket, she started running towards the noise. Coming around a mausoleum, she stopped in her tracks when she saw a boy, a few years older than her, in faded blue overalls, three sizes too big for him, address a vampire in a language she couldn’t understand. The boy’s voice was commanding, and the vampire seemed to just stand still, perhaps cruelly enjoying the situation. The boy had to be mad, drunk, high or all three, but, somehow, he didn’t look like it. She approached the scene stealthily and just knew she hadn’t made any sound, but still she saw the boy turn his eyes in her direction briefly. She heard the boy yell something to her, but it was too late. She charged the unmoving vampire and dusted it with a straight strike in the back.

* * *

A’Rowane saw immediately that his effort had been for nothing. The departure of the soul and the amalgamation of the human and demon essences were too fresh. He was still holding the soul-sucker in thrall when his extended senses told him there was another presence nearby. In his peripheral vision he saw a dark-clad girl stealthily approach them with a stake in her hand. ‘ _A Slayer but not Buffy Summers. So, this is most likely another time._ ’

“Wait!” he shouted to the Slayer and withdrew his aura. Maybe the girl would stop but he definitely didn’t want to be spiritually close to the soul-sucker in case she disintegrated him regardless; a fact which not that surprisingly followed immediately afterwards.

‘ _A new asset and a powerful one at that_ ,’ A’Rowane thought while taking in the girl who stood facing him with a wary look on her face. She was slim but well-built, maybe a half-a-hand shorter than him. She had full sensual lips, round and questioning brown eyes and a full mane of wavy brown hair. Her figure was athletic with long and slender legs, and she bore her stature with the ease of a fighter – something A’Rowane could appreciate.

‘ _Ok, this may be a long shot, but she_ is _of the same lineage_ ,’ he thought and tried to mentally construct the abstract notion in his head into sound.

Faith could now see that the overall-clad boy in front of her wasn’t a drooling lunatic, roaring drunk or doped to the gills. He was looking back at her with a solemn, appraising gaze and then spoke two words which totally stunned her.

“Ba-fi Sa-mes?”

“Buffy? What are you, an exchange student? Didn’t bother to mention any of that to me, no surprise there. Oh, right, maybe they sent you because of that Inca mummy girl incident B mentioned. Almost got yourself killed before even meeting her, yunno. Must be a trend.”

She was starting to get uncommonly disconcerted under that steady look. It wasn’t vacant or anything but rather close to something she would use to try to distinguish a friend from foe. Boys rarely focused on her face for longer periods of time, their line of sight invariably shifting downwards. Not able to really explain why, she subtly changed her stance by pulling her shoulders backwards to make her breasts more prominent and moving her hips to the side a little to bring attention her leather-clad sub-waist area. To her chagrin the boy refused to take the bait. Instead he turned sideways and slowly extended his arm to the side.

“Want me to take you to her? Yeah, sure, why not. You don’t talk much, do ya, and what’s with the outfit? You ain’t another Sven, are ya?” she asked, remembering Queen C’s recollections of the previous student exchange program.

* * *

They were finally standing outside Buffy’s house and, to Faith’s relief, there was still light coming out of her room; she wasn’t on patrol herself nor yet sleeping.

“Wait here,” she said to the boy who had followed her there and pointed at the ground. It had been an odd journey from the cemetery to Revello Drive. The boy had maintained a distance of a few steps behind her and to her left. Whenever she had slowed down, the boy slowed down as well. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was instinctively wary of letting an unknown person behind his back.

She climbed the front-yard tree to the patio roof and silently crawled on all fours to Buffy’s window. She knocked on the glass a few times and saw Buffy, clad in PJs, approach the window with a startled look on her face. ‘ _Let’s see how she’ll react to the news_ ,’ Faith thought with an evil grin.

“Faith? What are you doing here?” Buffy asked her in a confused voice. She didn’t sound altogether displeased at seeing Faith, even if it was late.

“Got your exchange student here, B,” Faith said and briefly turned her head to draw Buffy’s gaze to the boy standing below them in the front yard.

Faith got her prize, having never seen anyone look as surprised as Buffy at that moment. “My what now? Faith, are you drunk?”

“Hell no, B!” Faith replied indignantly. “Look, I met this guy while patrolling. Believe it or not, he was actually trying to talk to a fucking vamp who just stood there. He was speaking some weird language I couldn’t recognize. After I dusted the vamp, he mentioned your name.”

A’Rowane’s heart jumped when he saw the girl who came to open the window to the Slayer who had escorted him there. It _was_ Buffy Summers, looking quite close to the age she had been when they had met in the Void, as far as he could tell. He had noticed the dark-haired Slayer recognize the name, but he couldn’t know if it was a very common one in this time and place. He had motioned for the girl to lead the way and, surprisingly, she seemed to easily understand what he wanted.

And now he was here. He didn’t know the game yet but obviously something big was in the works and the pieces were starting to gather. ‘ _Two Slayers – Dark and Light! How is that possible? The dark one appears to be the one who is the current representative of the lineage..._ The _Slayer. What does that make me in this game? Anyway, Buffy most likely won’t remember me and she definitely won’t recognize me with the glamour on. Well, here goes nothing. Hopefully I don’t come out as a half-wit._ ’

He looked up to where the two girls were having their conversation. He put his right palm over his heart and called quietly. “Ba-fi?”

Both Slayers turned their head around when they heard the boy call Buffy from below.

“See? He knows you,” Faith said.

“Well, I don’t know him!” Buffy hissed. “I haven’t the faintest idea what any of this is about.”

“Aren’t you gonna let him in? He’s not half bad-looking. Maybe it’ll be ok.”

“No! Mom would freak out and we don’t even have a guest room prepared. Why don’t you take him to the motel with you?”

“Hey, it’s not my burden, B. Besides, there’s something odd about him.”

“Well, there you go! And you want to dump him on me? Wait! We are not talking about ancient Inca mummies here, are we?”

“No, it’s just... I dunno, something. He ain’t under influence or anything but he was definitely talking to that vamp in a sort of commanding way. Besides, I have no idea how he spotted me. He saw me with a stake in my hand and just took me in as part of a changing scenario.”

Then the girls locked gazes and opened their mouths in synch.

“Giles!”


	6. Chapter 6

Giles was just about to fall asleep when there was an insistent knocking at his front door.

‘ _Bloody hell, this has better be damn important,_ ’ he grumbled as he pulled on his dressing gown and put on slippers.

Opening the front door, he was less than enthused to see both Buffy and Faith standing there with a boy he didn’t recognize.

“Buffy, unless the Hellmouth has just been opened, I’m going back to bed,” he almost groaned.

“We found this guy, well I did,” Faith said.

“Yes, Faith did, in a cemetery,” Buffy said.

“He was talking to a vamp,” Faith said.

“He can’t speak English,” Buffy said.

“He knows Buffy,” Faith said.

Giles felt his irritation rise. “Look, as much as it may surprise you, Watchers need their sleep like normal human beings. Now, please make sense or come back in the morning.”

Then he saw the unknown boy look him in the eyes, bring the palm of his right hand to his chest and bow slightly. The boy said a single word he didn’t quite recognize but which resonated with something in his subconscious.

“Yes, well. He seems to be a rather polite young man. Erm... remind me once again. Why did you bring him here? And, please, just one version at a time.”

He saw the two Slayers share a look and then Faith shrugged.

“Ok, G. I was patrolling and came upon this guy and a fresh vamp. He was saying something to the vamp, hell, it sounded like a command, and the vamp just stood there. I dusted the vamp and afterwards the guy said Buffy’s name. I thought he was an exchange student or something, so I took him to Buffy’s. She knew nothin’, and we brought him here.”

“Well, alright,” Giles said and stepped away from the door.

A’Rowane was looking curiously around the room to which they had escorted him. Some of the items were alien to him but the basic structure was familiar – couch, chairs, tables, paintings, carpets, curtains. ‘ _Does every civilization reinvent everything anew based on some cyclical inevitability that transcends time and space? The Old Ones, us, the humans? Or is it some higher power at work?_ ’

He had recognized the older man whose house this was as a Guardian, Buffy’s it seemed. He had greeted the Guardian respectfully and watched expectantly if he was going to invite him in. He didn’t, which raised A’Rowane’s respect of him even further. The Guardian obviously knew better than to invite a stranger to his home.

There were lots of books around, which probably made him a learned man. A’Rowane didn’t dare hope that the man actually understood and spoke the Old Tongue, but he had to try. He stood up slowly from where he was sitting, avoiding sudden movements. Keeping his hands in plain sight, he faced the man. Once again, he performed the respect by touching his chest.

“Greetings, Guardian. My name is A’Rowane Than’Shea. My humble thanks for being allowed under your roof. I’m in your debt.”

Buffy and Faith were looking at the boy with wide eyes. They didn’t understand the actual words he had said but the way they were delivered spoke of sophistication and eloquence.

“Definitely not a Sven,” Faith muttered.

“Giles, do you have any idea of what he said?” Buffy asked. There was only a silence in reply. The boy was still standing and facing Giles with an expectant look on his face.

“Giles?” Buffy tried again.

“Erm... yes?” Giles blinked, shaken out of his thoughts. “Well... now, Buffy, Faith. I don’t want you to jump into any rushed conclusions, and I may be wrong, but to my knowledge no human has ever mastered that particular language, let alone spoken it natively. It’s known as the Language of Legends and it’s rumoured that it was once used by the Old Ones. Later it’s been a kind of Latin among, for example, high-ranking demons. If I’m correct, what he just said were the first complete sentences in that language I’ve ever heard spoken.”

Buffy couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Luckily, she still had enough instinct left that she practically slammed her palm on Faith’s thigh before the other Slayer could jump up and engage the boy.

“Faith!” Buffy hissed. “He’s been around you and us for a while now. He could have attacked anytime if he really wished to.” It took a few seconds but then she could feel Faith relax and she removed her hand.

A’Rowane was watching the interaction between the Slayers with interest. It was obvious the Guardian had said something about him that upset them both. He saw Buffy regain her composure quickly and then prevent the dark one from perhaps attacking him. He had been watching the two closely ever since witnessing their first encounter by Buffy’s window. There was a genuine camaraderie between them, that was certain, and they both seemed to have a close relationship with the Guardian under whose roof they currently were.

The Guardian had not officially welcomed him under his roof, so the dark Slayer’s severe breach of etiquette could be overlooked without anyone losing face. There had been no introductions yet and he wondered if it would be an offense to initiate the courtesies. In the end he decided that some progress had to be made regardless of niceties.

“A’Rowane,” he said and tapped his chest a few times.

Giles rose immediately to his feet and tried to wrap his tongue around the unfamiliar sounds. “Rowan?” he finally attempted. A’Rowane sighed inwardly. ‘ _Alright, Rowan it is. No one’s called me that since they made me Framadar, except you, Aurora. You really “enjoyed” throwing that around, knowing you were the only one who could do so with impunity. Well, everything and everyone I knew have most likely been lost in time, so I might as well start anew by being just Rowan. Two Slayers and a Guardian – not a bad cadre to be associated with._ ’

He smiled and looked expectantly at the Guardian.

“Rupert Giles,” Giles said slowly pronouncing each syllable with precision. Then he indicated to the two Slayers in turn. “Buffy Summers.” The girl in question gave him a little wave and smiled. “Faith Lehane.” The dark-haired Slayer just glared at him through pursed lips. Rowan gave each of them a small nod with his hand over his heart.

“So, he can stay here?” Buffy asked casually.

“Now, look, Buffy...”

“Pleeease, Giles,” Buffy tried with her best “look how adorably cute I am” look and batted her eyelashes.

Giles gave her a suffering look and sighed. “Well, he can spend the night in the book stora... guestroom. I have a camp bed there. Don’t you girls also have somewhere to be? Bed, perhaps?”

After the girls had left, Rowan followed Rupert down a corridor to a room practically filled with boxes full of books. It looked like a veritable labyrinth. In the far corner was just enough space for a camp bed, a wooden chair and a small bedside table. He was pleasantly surprised; he would have been fine with a carpet and a blanket. He was still looking around the “nest” when he heard Rupert say something which sounded like a question. When he looked back, he saw the Guardian lift his fingers to his mouth and then pat his stomach. ‘ _He’s offering me food. That’s seals the bargain_.’ He smiled at Rupert and briefly touched his own chest again.

* * *

There was meat, some green vegetable leaves and slices of some red fruit with lots of small seeds between two bread slices. He looked thankfully at Rupert whose reply sounded something like “Bee-El-Tee”. Rupert had also brought him a large glass of water which he downed in one.

They looked at each other in silence for a while. Then Rupert nodded once and navigated himself out of the room. After finishing the delicious snack, Rowan stretched himself on the camp bed. He was instantly asleep.

* * *

Rowan opened his eyes and saw a ceiling and a dim sphere of light above him. “Aurora?” he called quietly still half-asleep. The sphere stayed static and monochrome. That alerted him enough to wake up fully and sit up. ‘ _Books_?’

It took a few seconds until he could recall everything that had happened; a sure sign that he still hadn’t fully recovered from the transition from nothingness to... anything but. He had no idea how long he had slept and peeking through the curtains which covered the window just above the bed told him only that it was not night anymore. His bladder was also reminding him of its existence which made him realize that he didn’t know how the humans in this time answered the calls of nature. Did they have outhouses or indoor latrines? Looking around, he noticed that the room had another door beside the one Rupert had escorted him through.

It took a while for him to decipher the door’s locking mechanism but eventually he managed to unlock it. The door opened to a small backyard surrounded by tall bushes and a gate blocking the view farther out. He wedged the door slightly ajar with a book and went outside. It was quite warm, so he tied the sleeves of his overalls around his waist leaving his upper body bare. After having taken care of the urgent business at hand, he decided to start the morning proper by going through the flowing forms of the “Swallow in the Reeds” pattern. Losing himself in the required precision and timing, he could feel that his muscles, joints and tendons were in perfect shape, as if no time at all had passed, and in a way it hadn’t, since he last went through the forms.

Giles was quietly sipping tea and watching Rowan flow smoothly from form to form through the narrowly open back door. At first, he had thought that the boy was practicing _t’ai chi_ , but he could quickly see that there was an additional complexity interwoven into the movements. He was hardly an expert himself, but he could recognize a master at work.

When he saw that Rowan was finished, he made his presence known by pushing the door fully open. The boy turned his serene face to him and smiled as a greeting. Giles lifted his cup of tea to which Rowan briefly touched his chest. He went back inside and made the boy another BLT sandwich and filled a jug with fresh water. Taking these and an empty glass outside, he laid them on the small garden table. He motioned for Rowan to sit and eat while himself taking the other chair around the table.

He still didn’t know _what_ the boy was, even though he now knew _who_. He had briefly entertained the idea of casting an identify spell on Rowan while the boy slept, but quickly discarded the idea. Regardless of what the boy was, he appeared to be gentle and polite, and he didn’t want to invade his privacy needlessly. Also, based on the performance he had witnessed just now, he was fairly sure Rowan was more than capable of defending himself... or retaliating if he felt threatened.

The lack of common language frustrated Giles. He knew that the boy was intelligent and curious, and most likely highly educated. By the time he had finished his tea, he concluded that he liked Rowan and would do his best to help and understand him.

Suddenly he saw Rowan blink and stand up. The boy went hurriedly inside but came immediately back with a book in his hand. Rowan opened the book on the table and made a motion of rapidly browsing through it and putting it aside. Then he went back inside to pick another book and repeated the performance. The boy was now looking at him expectantly.

Giles was thinking furiously. ‘ _If he really is something other than human, he won’t find anything in those books... Bugger! The Library!_ ’ He pointed at the two books Rowan had brought and brushed them aside. Then he stood up and walked to the back-yard gate and, without opening it, motioned through it. He saw Rowan’s smile widen instantly.

* * *

A little while later they left the house and went to Rupert’s personal transport apparatus. Rowan was rather curious about it and eagerly went inside when Rupert opened a door for him. He watched with interest as Rupert operated the controls in the front seat and got them mobile. It was pleasantly comfortable as the riding was smooth and swift. He made instinctive mental notes of the twists and turns they made and tried to memorize any noteworthy landmarks, which was... practically everything.

‘ _Rupert, as a Guardian, probably knows where the real arcana is located. He wouldn’t be storing it in his home, unguarded. I’m fairly sure, though, that he doesn’t have access to a Memory Prism, even if any have survived, or a Stasis Box. I wonder if any have been discovered by the present time humans. I lack a homing jewel but if any have been unearthed, I should be able to easily recognize one from pictures._ ’

To his astonishment their destination was the same building he had left the night before. This time though it was far from quiet. Lots of young people, alone and in small groups, were crowding the immediate area surrounding the building. ‘ _Ah, a lyceum! I should have guessed that Rupert would be involved in the art of education._ ’

Giles had hoped that he would be able to “smuggle” Rowan inside the library without anyone from the staff waylaying them. They were just a few yards from the doors when he saw a verifiably inhuman creature approaching them. He quickly ushered Rowan through the doors to the library and remained standing in front of them trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. To his relief, the principal never even noticed him as he walked past him.

‘ _The athenaeum_ ,’ Rowan smiled as he took in the large room. He looked around if any scribes were present, but it appeared he and Rupert were alone there. He went for a small tour among the shelves but everything he looked at appeared to be too _young_ to be of any assistance to him. He was starting to feel disappointed but when he got back to the large table on the lower level, he saw Rupert bring out actual manuscripts and tomes from a side room. ‘ _Now we’re getting somewhere_ ,’ he thought and sat down at the long table beside a periodically growing pile of books. He opened the first large tome, focused and tried to _see_.

There were fragmentary... hints scattered among the writings he was browsing through. Even the oldest books from what appeared to be the secret section of the _athenaeum_ were written in languages invented far after his time. But there were drawings, diagrams and pictures, though, which hinted at more ancient knowledge having been available to the authors. Some of the pictures depicting actual demons gave testimony that they still roamed the world, but since humans seemed to dominate it, in a satisfyingly diminished capacity.

After a while Rowan rose from his chair and started idly walking around the room stretching his back and arms. Rupert was nowhere to be seen and there was no one else there either beside himself. He was surprised at the lack of visitors to the _athenaeum_. He would have thought that the young scholars would congregate there to discuss ideas and notions but for some reason that didn’t appear to be the case. His searching gaze was circling the large room when suddenly his eyes focused on something he could recognize; a large map was painted on a wall; something he had missed during his initial walk-through. It looked familiar; the large landmasses hadn’t changed that much since his time. He located easily the twin islands of Selenia in the lower right-hand corner, and briefly wondered if any of his people or their descendants still lived there. Then he felt like an icy hand had gripped his heart. Where a mountain had once stood as the centre of a civilization, only a large blue dot now marked the place – like the immense waters around the islands themselves.

‘ _No!!!_ ’

* * *

When Giles returned to the library, he was surprised to see only a pile of books on the table and Rowan’s empty chair. Looking around in rising concern he finally located the boy on the mezzanine. He was sitting on the floor underneath the large world map hugging his knees with his head buried in his arms. Giles rushed to the boy’s side and crouched down beside him.

“Rowan, my dear boy, are you alright?” he asked in alarm, touching the boy’s shoulder. That seemed to shake Rowan out of his distress, and he got back to his feet with a single, smooth motion. The boy looked at him with an unreadable expression and then turned back to the map. He pressed his finger in the centre of North Island and then walked away without saying a word.

‘ _What’s so upsetting about Lake Taupo?_ ’ Giles wondered.

* * *

Buffy was the first of the gang to arrive in the library later that day. Giles was indexing what appeared to be a new batch of history books at the counter. Rowan was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the upper level just past the stairs with what looked like a large foldable map of Sunnydale and the surrounding area spread open in front of him. The boy looked like he was in a trance and she looked at Giles questioningly. Giles just shook his head and put a raised finger to his lips. Then he motioned for Buffy to follow him into his office.

“What’s going on, Giles? Wait, don’t tell me. He went weird, right?”

“Well, erm... yes,” Giles admitted, taking off his glasses. “But he didn’t do anything remotely hostile,” he added quickly when Buffy’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “He just took one of the Tourist Centre issued maps from the pile on the desk, went back there and he’s been staring at it ever since.”

She heard the library doors open again and Gwen marched in with Faith sauntering behind her. Giles motioned for the two to join them in the office. Gwen raised an eyebrow but did not otherwise protest.

“Went bonkers, right?” Faith asked with a smirk.

Buffy shrugged her shoulders and turned to Giles for answers.

“Who’s the boy?” Gwen asked almost casually. Obviously, Faith hadn’t briefed her Watcher in about the previous night.

“Erm... an exchange student, arrived late yesterday evening,” Giles explained in a hurry. “Doesn’t speak a word of English, I’m afraid.”

“I see,” Gwen stated flatly. “And the assumption that he has gone ‘bonkers’ is based on observations about his previous mental state which took place when, exactly?”

Giles deflated visibly, and Faith suddenly became very interested in the tips of her boots.

“Rupert, you have to start trusting me,” Gwen said in a not unfriendly voice. “I’m not an inquisitor and we are on the same side, even if you still don’t fully believe it. Please?”

Buffy and Faith left the office hurriedly but not before Gwen had given Faith a “we’ll talk about this later” look. They took seats at the long study table in silence but kept throwing glances at the statue-like figure sitting close by.

Then, without any warning, Rowan bounced up from his cross-legged position and marched out of the library without any indication that he had noticed either of them. Both Slayers turned their eyes inconspicuously to the office where an intense discussion was taking place. Neither Giles nor Gwen seemed to have noticed Rowan’s departure. After meeting Buffy’s eyes questioningly and receiving a nod, Faith hurried after the boy.


	7. Chapter 7

Rowan was walking purposefully towards what he assumed to be the town’s central park. The mentally constructed pendulum he had meticulously moved over the map had refused to linger over a certain corner of the large green area. That’s where his step was taking him. He had memorized the map and knew which roads and turns he had to take to get to the park.

There were only a few people around and those who passed him didn’t pay him any attention. He would eventually have to drop his glamour in order to have access to the elements, which he was quite sure he’d need on this mission. He had been constantly wearing his glamour ever since drawing it upon himself the previous night but now, just inside the park’s entrance, he dropped it again.

He reached the park’s corner without any encounters. The place was hidden from view from the gravel paths which criss-crossed the park and there didn’t seem to be anyone around. So, he spread his hands on the cool ground and focused.

* * *

Faith guessed from quite early on that Rowan was heading to the park. The boy had just passed the gates when she noticed something odd about the figure she had been stalking. The boy... rippled for a fleeting instant and then, like a scene had shifted in a movie, a subtly different character continued walking farther inside the park.

‘ _Keyser Soze, much?_ ’ Faith sighed inwardly and followed more carefully, loosening the stake inside her sleeve a little. He saw the boy (‘ _Boy, huh? And I’m King Tut’s grandmother._ ’) kneel down and lay his hands on the ground. Then she stopped like she had hit a wall.

Faith watched with her mouth hanging open as the earth split to open a human-sized hole under Rowan’s hands. She hadn’t heard him cast a spell or seen any other special effects which to her knowledge were a given when magic was used. This was deeply unsettling. ‘ _I’m never gonna let B forget I told her so._ ’ Well, maybe she hadn’t, but that was really not the point.

She saw Rowan look quickly around before lowering himself into the hole. She approached the site carefully waiting for the hole to close after him. There had been something... odd about the profile she had briefly seen in the dim light. For sure, it wasn’t a demonic visage like she had suspected, but not quite human either.

The hole stayed solidly open, though, and she peered cautiously inside. To her surprise she could see a dimly lit tunnel running both ways and a platform-like pillar rising from the floor with its top some eight feet below surface. Rowan must have raised that one as well. ‘ _Where’s the light coming from?_ ’ she wondered.

She was torn between curiosity and caution. Should she follow Rowan by herself or go back to get Buffy? After a few seconds of thinking, she made her decision. ‘ _Well, girl. Curiosity may have killed the cat but not the Slayer,_ ’ she thought and dropped herself onto the pillar.

She jumped from the top of the pillar to the tunnel floor and looked around fully alert. The tunnel sloped downwards in both directions and Rowan’s barefooted steps, visible in the light dust, led away to her left. The dim light illuminating the tunnel seemed to come from nowhere at all. ‘ _Curiouser and curiouser,_ ” she thought. “Well, Alice, let’s see how deep the rabbit-hole goes,” she muttered aloud.

She had walked along Rowan’s footsteps maybe twenty paces when she looked back over her shoulder and stopped in shock. She had definitely been going downwards but the tunnel still sloped down behind her as well. The pillar and hole in the ceiling were still there which gave her some relief, but she suddenly felt like she was standing on top of a huge wheel which rolled in synch with her steps. For the first time in her life she was hit by an attack of vertigo. ‘ _This can’t be real. Get a grip, Lehane,_ ’ she thought, gritted her teeth and continued forward.

She had no idea how long she walked. She just concentrated dully on the trail of footsteps left behind by Rowan and marched on. After an indeterminate time, the air started to get heavier and suffocating. A nameless fear was creeping up her spine and her legs felt like she had ten pounds of lead attached to them, each. ‘ _If that..._ guy _made it, so can I_ ,’ she kept repeating to herself despite the growing feeling of a nameless dread. Step after step she concentrated on just moving one foot in front of the other.

She stopped in astonishment when she saw Rowan a short way ahead of her, standing in the opening to a large cavern. With the help of the tunnel’s light she could see that the boy’s whole figure was slightly different than before. His hair was longer and the deepest black, shiningly smooth, not the dull black-ish colour it had been before. She heard him take a deep breath and then step into the cavern. With her last strength Faith practically crawled to where the tunnel ended and hid herself in a small niche in the wall near the cavern’s opening.

The area which Rowan had entered was perhaps a hundred feet in diameter and thirty in height. Stalactites hanged down from the ceiling and stalagmite-like rock formations rose from the floor here and there.

Suddenly a deep voice filled the cavern. The voice carried well-exercised authority and power, and Faith felt her breath leave her. She couldn’t understand the words the voice said but they still touched something in the very deepest layers of her mind.

* * *

“You came sooner than I thought,” Rowan heard a familiar voice say in the Old Tongue.

He faced the approaching figure calmly. It wore a face he also knew well; not the one he had expected, though.

“So, she’s still alive,” he replied.

( _‘How can he be so calm? How can he even speak?’_ Faith was astounded. It took all her strength to just draw breath.)

“Very clever, Framadar.”

“I came here for answers, Hegemon,” Rowan said flatly.

“Yes, answers you will not find anywhere else, especially since your precious Powers seem to be indifferent about the follow-up, as usual. They dropped you here and left you to your own devices. Now, I will answer you truly, A’Rowane Than’Shea. Having you _know_ will not help you, in the end, nor will it influence the eventual outcome. I may withhold information, but I will not lie to you.”

“You are the Master of Lies, so I’ll take that with a grain of salt.”

“I would expect nothing less from you, Framadar. You were a worthy adversary back _then_. I hope your time, or rather the lack thereof, in the Void hasn’t dulled your edge.”

“That remains to be seen, Hegemon.”

“Indubitably. But I’m going to even out the playfield, nonetheless. I’ve never had much use for the whole Visions and Oracles rigmarole and all. Too slow for my taste. Let’s just hope you are strong enough to survive being a Conduit.”

“What are you...?” Rowan started before sudden understanding made his eyes pop wide open in shock.

The Hegemon’s answering smile was inhumanly cruel.

“You wanted answers, Framadar. Can you handle them?”

The Hegemon’s borrowed form vanished and something _huge_ wrapped itself around Rowan and forced itself inside him.

Faith watched in horror as Rowan was lifted from the cave floor by unseen forces. He was hanging in the air, arms outstretched in a position eerily reminding her of one being crucified. The boy was screaming in agony the like of which the Slayer had never witnessed before. She tasted blood in her mouth; she had bitten through her lower lip to avoid screaming along with the boy. She wanted to cover her ears and close her eyes, but she couldn’t accomplish either. She was surprised to feel tears flowing out of her eyes; tears which slowly dropped from her cheeks to the dry tunnel floor.

Through the all-encompassing pain Rowan could feel all his senses being overloaded. Sights, smells, sounds, tastes and feelings flooded into his mind and spirit without any tampering or buffering. He knew he was dying. With the last vestiges of his rational mind he wished it would happen quickly, before he was rendered hopelessly insane. No-one could withstand this kind of full mental assault.

After what felt like an eternity, the torture ended, and Rowan fell to the floor in a boneless heap. He couldn’t feel his body.

“The line of Slayers will come to an end and you will be there to witness it,” he heard the Hegemon’s borrowed voice echo back and forth in the cavern and then vanish.

* * *

Faith realized that the overpowering dread had left her, and she could breathe and move again. It was also dark; the source-less light had vanished along with Rowan’s torturer. She rose unsteadily to her feet and tried to get her bearings. Looking behind her, she saw to her amazement that the tunnel was now perfectly flat with the hole and pillar only a short distance away. Dim light from outside illuminated the pillar like a sculpture of modern art.

Suddenly she heard a feeble groan ahead of her.

“Hey?” she called quietly but received no answer.

She lowered herself back onto her hands and knees and started feeling her way towards the spot she thought Rowan’s voice had originated from. Her senses told her that she was still in a tunnel, not in the large space Rowan had entered previously. She had advanced maybe ten feet when her hands touched a warm body. Feeling her way towards Rowan’s head she pressed her fingers to the side of his neck. There was a slow but steady pulse. Seeking Rowan’s mouth to check his breathing, her fingers made their first contact with the boy’s face and she stopped. There was something... odd. She couldn’t quite connect her visual memory of Rowan’s face to that what her touch told her. She remembered the profile she had seen just before the boy entered the hole and quickly withdrew her hand. Then she felt Rowan stir and move with a painful groan. She drew herself farther back.

“Faith? H-h-help,” she heard an almost non-existent voice breathe through what must have been motionless lips. The plea sounded like the last breath of a dying man.

Her brain short-circuited. She was at a total loss.

“You... he...” Her head was full of questions, but she didn’t know where to start. “Who was that, the fucking Devil, huh? And, and... _who the fuck are you?!_ ”

She received no answer, except silence. Touching Rowan’s neck again she verified that the boy was still alive, though unconscious.

“Oh, you fucking piece of... Ok, I’ll get help. Just don’t... don’t fucking die on me while I’m gone, ‘kay?” she growled. Her mind was in disarray, so she turned to the one feeling she knew she could handle – anger.

When she got back to the library, Xander and Willow were also there and in full research mode. Her Watcher was nowhere to be seen; a small mercy that. Everyone’s eyes turned to her when she burst in.

“Rescue mission,” she said simply and headed straight to the cage where their weapons and other equipment were stored.

“A what?” Buffy asked, blinking her eyes.

“The... guy, Rowan, is injured and unconscious in a tunnel underneath the Park. We need light and ropes.”

When she looked over her shoulder, everyone was looking back at her like she had grown a second head.

“Erm... Faith. Could you please elaborate a little?” Giles said.

“There’s no short or long version to this, G-Man. We gotta motor and get him out, now!”

She was surprised at her own insistency and urgency. Why should it matter if a basically unknown boy was left there to take care of himself? She was only responsible for her own well-being and maybe that of her sister Slayer while patrolling together, right? She pushed the uneasy thoughts to the background as she waited impatiently for the Scoobies to get themselves ready for the task at hand.

* * *

Faith, Buffy and Xander lowered themselves through the hole on top of the pillar as Willow surveyed the immediate surroundings.

“Your guy did this?” Xander asked.

“Yeah,” Faith answered.

“I can’t feel any spell residue,” Willow’s voice came from the surface just outside their view.

“What did he do, exactly?” Giles asked, looking down at them through the hole. He lowered each of them a flashlight.

“I saw him open the hole from a distance, so I missed the specifics,” Faith shrugged. “He just laid his hands on the ground and it split. The pillar was there when I looked in.”

“That’s... interesting. I guess it’s safe to say that there’s definitely more to him than meets the eye,” Giles muttered.

“You ain’t wrong, G,” Faith said.

* * *

“Oh, my God,” Buffy and Faith breathed together when they got their first look of the still unconscious figure on the cave floor in the flashlights’ bright light. Amidst her amazement Buffy also had a fleeting thought that she had seen that face somewhere before.

“I guess that pretty much sums it up,” Xander agreed, also staring.


	8. Chapter 8

Rowan was unconscious but his spirit and subconscious were operating at overdrive. Data became Information. Information was collated to Knowledge. Knowledge was distilled into Wisdom. Complexity, enough to fill a library, was settling itself in his mind and spirit. If he were awake, it would have been like remembering a long-forgotten dream. There was no separation of self; everything became part of him like it had always been there. The Hegemon’s gamble had paid off. He was one of perhaps only a handful of beings currently alive who could have endured what he had been forced to go through and still retain both his identity and sanity.

* * *

Rowan opened his eyes and saw a ceiling and a dim lightbulb above him. ‘ _This seems oddly familiar,_ ’ he thought. ‘ _Was it all just a dream?_ ’ “Aurora?” he called softly.

There was the sound of sudden movement, like someone rising from a chair, and a man’s spectacled face appeared in his view.

“Erm... you’re awake. That’s... that’s good,” the man said. He didn’t seem to be able to turn his eyes away from Rowan’s face.

‘ _Rupert Giles,_ ’ Rowan remembered and suddenly, like a flash, he could recall: ‘ _Rupert Edmund Giles... Ripper... Watcher... Librarian... Buffy Summers... Jenny Calendar..._ ’

“Am I badly wounded in the face, or what, Rupert? Doesn’t feel like it,” he said bringing his hands to his face. A quick self-check told him that he was perfectly fine, physically, if not for the fact that his head felt a few sizes too small and he was bone tired.

“You... ah... how can you...? well... yes, erm... Rupert is fine. And you are... Rowan, erm... still?” Giles stammered.

* * *

‘ _No, you’re not wounded,_ ’ Giles had wanted to say instead. ‘ _But I really have no idea what you are._ ’

He could still vaguely discern the boy’s... other face, the one he had been wearing previously, in his features but there it ended. Rowan had looked... handsome, but the face he was looking at now was, well, _beautiful_. That was a word Rupert Giles had never used to describe anyone of his own gender before.

He could not put an estimate to Rowan’s age. With the other face he had looked like a boy of maybe 20 or 21, but this one projected a kind of... _agelessness_ with almost relentlessly symmetrical, smooth features. These features included sharp cheek bones, a narrow jaw with a long and even jawline, a line which continued to his slightly pointed ears, and a remarkably narrow and straight nose. His skin was light brown in colour without any visible blemishes, his shoulder-long black hair straight and shiny. The most remarkable feature were his eyes, though. Giles hadn’t really paid much attention to Rowan’s eyes earlier, except that they were kind of brownish, but the ones looking back at him now were something else. They were larger and slightly slanted, shaped like almonds. What was really extraordinary about them was the astonishing, dark amber colour of the large iris and the faint _glow_ that seemed to originate from within. His eyes were brought into forefront by his long and narrow, black eyebrows which at their ends turned sharply downwards. His long lashes were longer towards the outer corner of his eyes which seemed to further exaggerate both their size and the slanting.

* * *

“How did I end up back here?” Rowan asked, rising up to lean on his elbows. He was lying in the same camp bed he had used earlier.

“Erm... Faith. Yes, Faith followed you. She came back to the library to fetch us, and we lifted you out of the tunnel with a harness. We put you in the back seat of the car and I drove you here,” Giles answered with his voice getting progressively quieter as he went on.

Rowan narrowed his eyes. The Watcher was acting strangely. “You seem ill at ease, Rupert. Why?”

“Well... erm... h-how can you suddenly understand English and speak it... Like. A. Native,” Giles asked quietly with the last three words whispered to himself.

“How... strange. I wasn’t actually aware that we were speaking English. I’m just responding to you. It feels perfectly natural,” Rowan mused. He tried a few words in the Old Tongue. They came to his tongue and lips just as easily, without him having to consciously think about them.

“What was that?” Rupert blinked. “I... I think I understood a bit this time. Whiteness? Brightness?”

“‘Let there be Light’,” Rowan said in English. It had been the creed of the Companions. The translation wasn’t fully accurate, though, due to the immense complexity of the Old Tongue, but it got the idea through.

There was a thoughtful silence between them.

‘ _What did The Hegemon_ do _? Yes, he turned me into a Conduit and just brute-forced the connection wide open, bypassing all the normal safeguards. And now I have been...what? Reprogrammed? Am I still_ me _? What else did he pour into me? Can I even trust myself anymore? How I wish you were here, Aurora! You always knew me better than I did myself. You must still be out there, like Aryane, since the Seals still hold. Are_ you _still the same, my precious Key? Would you even remember me?_ ’

“Did Faith brief you in?” Rowan asked, his memories of Aurora and Aryane bringing another temperamental female in his mind.

“Erm... somewhat vaguely, I’m afraid. She basically told us the Devil crucified you in the air.”

“Tomorrow, Rupert. I promise I will tell you and the Slayers everything, tomorrow,” Rowan said, feeling his eyelids grow heavy.

“Everything?”

“Well, for a certain value of everything, at least,” Rowan said with a secretive smile. “Bring a lot of notebooks.” He closed his eyes and was almost immediately fast asleep. The imaginary wheels in his mind and spirit picked up speed again.

Giles left the room feeling uncommonly light on his feet.

* * *

“... and then we hauled him out of the hole with a rope harness Faith came up with. And then...,” Willow was explaining to Oz as they were walking to the school for the meeting Giles had called.

“You’re in Willow-babble mode,” Oz interrupted. He could sense there was something his girlfriend was not telling him; something that was troubling her.

“Oh,” Willow said in a small voice and hung her head. She was gnawing on her lower lip. “He made a hole in the ground,” she continued emotionlessly.

“I got that the first time,” Oz said gently. “Why the freak-out?”

“There was no residue of any magic use near the site that I could sense,” Willow burst out.

“And that’s bad,” Oz stated. He knew Willow would eventually come to the point.

“Yes! No... it’s just difficult to believe. Raw elemental magic is one of the hardest disciplines in the Art. It’s not really magic at all, more like an inbuilt interface into the world around us. It’s basically imposing your will on anything... everything around you and telling it what to do. It’s like...,” Willow was desperately searching for an analogue Oz would understand. “...like making a computer do something just by wanting it to, bypassing all operating system and application limitations.”

“Right,” Oz said, slowly starting to understand Willow’s agitation.

“What I do, when I perform magic, is basically like using a list of applications. I can ask certain spirits or beings to perform these acts for me and it’s up to them to answer my call. There are formulas and rituals, from really simple to mindbogglingly complex, designed to return a certain result, like a program. You feed them your magical energy and possibly some material components as input, and they then do the ‘hard work’ by, for example, manipulating the elements for you. You are buffered against any major backlashes but at the same time some power is lost as entropy during the transfer. Raw elemental magic bypasses all that. It’s inherently very dangerous – and can be really addictive – but, on the other hand, it contains much fewer limits within its specific domain than spells.”

“Domain?”

“For want of a better term,” Willow shrugged. “Elemental magic applies only to the so-called physical world in the classical sense – Air, Earth, Fire, Water – and the inner world, mind – Spirit. Spells can transcend dimensional barriers, manipulate time, alter reality and so on, so they have, conceivably, a wider area of use. But within its specific domain, elemental magic is the ultimate tool in the hands of an adept.”

“So, it’s like magical hacking.” Trust Oz to condense a long explanation to a few words.

“Yes!” Willow said happily. “I can do it to a small degree, like floating feathers and pencils. Air is probably the gentlest and most forgiving element. But forcing the ground to open for you without going through the earth spirits, no way.”

“Can’t wait to meet the guy.”

* * *

Rowan and Giles were the first to arrive in the library. In a total contrast to what he had been wearing earlier, Rowan was sporting black jeans, a white t-shirt with a casual button-up black shirt on top, which he kept open with the sleeves rolled up, and Dr Martens 1460’s; a set Giles had bought him earlier that day. Dressed casually like this, Giles realized, Rowan might not even need to hide behind an illusion to appear inconspicuous, provided he wore sunglasses and perhaps covered the tips of his ears. Thinking further about the level of denial permeating the Hellmouth district, Rowan might not have to do even that. The thought made him chuckle aloud.

“What’s so funny, Rupert?” Rowan asked, sounding slightly baffled.

“It just occurred to me that, like this, you would hardly be very conspicuous walking along Maple Court. You’d have to hide your eyes, though. The people of Sunnydale are exceptional at not noticing anything out of the ordinary but that might be just too much for them to shrug off.”

“With more cemeteries than malls and an annual apocalypse, it’s not hard to believe,” Rowan nodded. “Soft Places tend to be like that.”

“Soft Places?” Giles asked curiously.

“Yes. I’ll explain more once the Slayers and their friends get here.”

“How do you think they’ll react to you?”

“Anything that’ll leave me alive is of the good,” Rowan deadpanned. “Anyway, this is me and I have no wish to hide from any of you – especially since it seems I’ll be here for the long haul. As you’re about to hear today, it’s hardly an accident that I’m here, now.” Thinking back to his arrival, made Rowan recall the debt he had. “By the way, I have the janitor’s phone number. Could you please find out who he is? I’d like to return his overalls and thank him for helping me. I have a debt to discharge.”

“I’d be happy to,” Giles said and took the slip of paper Rowan offered him.

Giles saw Rowan’s eyes focus and his head turn slightly to the side a few seconds before he himself heard Buffy and Faith’s voice in the corridor outside the library. ‘ _Showtime,_ ’ he thought.


	9. Chapter 9

By an unspoken agreement, both Buffy and Faith had avoided talking about the events of two days back. But now, back at the library, both swept their gaze around the room looking for a figure in blue overalls. To their disappointment, all they saw was Giles talking to a student dressed in black. So powerful had the first impression with the overalls been that they missed the other clues, even if they were approaching “the student” from behind.

“Hi, Giles,” Buffy greeted her Watcher as they approached the pair. “Are we the first...”

“Buffy, Faith. Nice to see you,” Rowan said casually, turning around to face the two Slayers. Giles tried his best to hide a smile.

“What the fuck?” Faith growled, stopping in her tracks. Despite everything that happened, she hadn’t been prepared for something like this.

“Giles, what...?” Buffy started but couldn’t quite think of what to say.

“Let’s just say that the crucifixion scene Faith witnessed the other day gave me the gift of speaking in tongues. Please, call me Rowan,” Rowan said smiling. “But first things first,” he continued in a more formal tone. He turned to Faith. “Faith, Slayer Lehane. Without your help I most likely wouldn’t be here today. I’m in your debt.”

Faith was at a loss for words. “Yeah, whatever,” was the only thing she could think of.

Rowan smiled knowingly and spread his arms wide. “Ok, Slayers,” he sighed in mock resignation. “You can poke and touch to your heart’s content until the others arrive; I guess I owe you that. Any private questions you might have, I’ll also answer.”

That had the expected result. Giles started coughing uncontrollably, and Buffy and Faith looked at each other rather sheepishly. Then they burst out in helpless laughter at the absurdity of the situation. Giles felt a huge weight lift off his chest.

Wiping the tears of mirth out of her eyes, Buffy straightened herself and took the initiative. She circled slowly once around Rowan, looking at him from all angles. Her Slayer sense tingled faintly but not unpleasantly. It wasn’t anything like the warning tingles she got when a vampire was close or the warm hum she sometimes felt when she was close to Faith. It was just... different. She reached out with a questioning look and, having received a nod in return, gently touched the tip of Rowan’s pointed ear with her fingers.

Faith found herself oddly reluctant to follow Buffy’s lead. She _knew_ she should be the bold one when things of this nature came up with the blonde Slayer. Then Rowan looked at her directly in the eyes with the corner of his mouth raised to a slight sneer – a silent challenge. That was something she could understand. Before she met Buffy, there hadn’t been anyone, ever, she considered to be her equal. She had always wanted and tried to be the one in charge – want, take, have – letting no-one dominate her. Watchers, naturally, were exempt from that rule. But, to challenge that so boldly...

There was no way she wouldn’t meet the challenge. She reached out slowly to touch Rowan’s cheek with the backs of her right-hand fingers. “So, you ain’t human, are you, Bright Eyes?” she asked with her practiced husky voice, cupping Rowan’s chin in her hand. Two could play this game and she was _very_ good at it. “Up here you got all the human parts. How about the rest?” she asked, turning Rowan’s head slowly from side to side and up and down with a waggle of her eyebrows. Despite the apparent joviality of her banter, she couldn’t avoid feeling the familiar tug south of her waist.

“Play your cards right, Slayer, and you might find out one day,” Rowan answered evenly never letting his gaze turn away from the Slayer’s. Faith felt her heart suddenly start beating much faster.

“Ooookay,” Buffy drawled from beside them, making them break the connection and turn to look at the blonde Slayer instead. The challenge would remain unresolved, for now. “I have a question,” Buffy continued.

“Of course,” Rowan said casually, making Faith purse her lips. Damn his cool.

“Is this the real, well, _you_?”

“Yes. When you first met me, I was wearing a glamour, a mixture of illusion and transfiguration. The first person I met here was so startled by my appearance that I thought it prudent to blend in more.”

‘ _No shit!_ ’ “Could you, well...?”

“Show? Certainly. It’s not like I’ll be undressing myself,” Rowan answered wryly. He concentrated briefly and drew the glamour upon himself.

With all three watching closely, Rowan’s outline rippled briefly, like a movie special effect. His own features were still somewhat recognizable with the glamour on, now that they knew what to look for, but they were definitely more human-like. Rounder and smaller eyes and ears, fuller nose, softer jaw and cheekbones, non-descript blackish hair. Only the light-brown colour of his skin remained approximately the same.

Rowan dropped the glamour after a minute, making it look like a film was run in reverse.

“Does it have a magic component?” Giles asked curiously. He knew about veils, illusions and mirage-based glamours, but this was something he had never witnessed before.

“I’ll tell you more, Rupert, at another time,” Rowan promised. “Now, I think we’ll be having more company.”

Two boys and a red-haired girl entered the library and something about them caused the hairs in the back of Rowan’s neck to bristle. His gaze fell on the shorter of the two boys.

“A warg!” Rowan hissed and shifted into a fighting stance.

* * *

“Sorry, gang, Cordy couldn’t make it...,” Xander started before stopping in mid-sentence.

Oz stopped in his tracks when the gaze of the “guy” Willow had been babbling about fell on him. It was not nearly full moon, but he still felt the wolf inside him stir. The piercing eyes facing him belonged to a predator, a large cat. He growled in his throat and instinctively crouched lower to prepare himself for attack.

Acting on instinct themselves, Buffy and Faith grabbed Rowan’s arms, and Xander and Willow did the same to Oz. Naturally, it was at that exact moment that Gwendolyn Post entered the library.

“Students fighting in the library? Rupert, really,” Gwen said condescendingly. To her surprise, no one paid her any attention.

Oz and Rowan were still locked in a match of wills when Giles stepped in between them and broke their stare. “Oz, get yourself together! Rowan, stand down!” he roared, letting the Ripper in him take charge for once. Everyone stood still for several seconds until both Oz and Rowan relaxed visibly. Giles motioned for Gwen to stay back. “Let them go,” he said to those holding the two.

Being free, Oz and Rowan approached each other warily. To the others they looked curious rather than hostile now. They circled each other once and then, like having practiced it, both held out their hands at the same time and grabbed each other’s wrist with a smile.

“I’m sorry, Oz,” Rowan said.

“Likewise, Rowan,” Oz replied.

“Ok, what was that?” Willow squeaked, daring finally to approach Oz. This encounter had definitely not been how she imagined it would play out. “What’s a warg?”

“Wargs are a sub-species of hellhounds or possibly it’s the other way around,” Giles explained. “They are basically wolf-shaped demons and even the smallest bite from one can be lethal.”

“But Oz is a werewolf, not a demon,” Willow protested.

“Willow,” Rowan said, turning to face the redhead. “Very nice to meet you. I thank you for your participation in rescuing me. And I apologize to you as well. On a quick glance Oz’s wolf signature was sufficiently close to a warg’s, so I acted on instinct.”

“Hi! Uh... yes? You’re very good look... eep,” Willow started babbling now that Rowan’s attention was on her. She finally just stood there with her mouth hanging open.

Rowan couldn’t help but laugh merrily at the bubbly girl. “Thank you, Willow. I’d like to return the compliment, but I have a feeling that the wolf beside you would rip me to pieces if I did that.”

Oz had initially stiffened at Willow’s words but immediately relaxed at Rowan’s response. He could sense no dishonesty or competition in Rowan’s words or demeanour.

“So, you have encountered these wargs before?” Giles asked.

“More times than I’d like to remember. I have lost many a good companion to them,” Rowan answered and turned to the final Scooby he had not addressed yet. “Xander. I thank you for your participation in rescuing me.”

Xander shook the offered hand with enthusiasm. “Since the girls are obviously unable to do so, can I just say ‘wow’. You really look like this? No magic involved?”

“The Slayers already examined me quite thoroughly before the rest of you arrived. No magic involved.”

Oz, Xander and Willow whipped their heads around to look at Buffy and Faith, who became suddenly very interested in their own shoes.

Having stood back so far, Gwen finally decided to take part. She hated having to stay outside the centre of action. “Would someone, please, tell me what’s going on?”

Everyone else just stared blankly, but Rowan stepped in front of the Watcher and held out his hand. “Watcher Post, I’m delighted to meet you. Please, call me Rowan.”

Remembering her manners, Gwen held out her own hand. “Gwen,” she said stiffly. To her surprise the boy didn’t just grab her hand to shake it. Instead he brought his fingertips to his lips and then touched her palm lightly with them. “Very delighted,” Rowan said.

Only upbringing kept Gwen from yanking her hand back. This impossibly handsome boy was pushing all the wrong buttons in her and, the worst part being, he was doing it with pure charm.

Turning away from the stiff Watcher, Rowan approached Giles.

“I think the Lady Watcher is already bursting at her seams to get to the business at hand,” Rowan said, glancing at Gwen over his shoulder. “Gwen, Rupert, everyone? Please, be seated. Can I also ask someone to make a call for a food delivery? What I’m about to tell you may take a while.”


	10. Chapter 10

When everyone had sat down, Rowan remained standing at the head of the long library table. Being used to address large crowds, he stayed silent for a few seconds letting his gaze touch each of those present one-by-one. There was no short or easy way to start with his “everything” and much would remain obscure, but he’d just have to start with something...

“I think I have to go all the way back to the beginning and start with the Powers and the Old Ones,” he finally began. He saw Rupert, Gwen and Willow draw shocked breaths at his proclamation. The two Slayers, Oz and Xander remained unperturbed.

“Those now called the ‘Powers that Be’ and ‘Old Ones’ are really of the same race but share a different philosophy. These beings possess many different shapes and powers, but all of them are gigantic in their true nature and usually beyond comprehension. A long time ago, during the epoch known as the Primordium Age, the side known as the Old Ones grew in malevolence and those on the Powers side left or fled this realm to a higher one. For countless aeons the remaining Old Ones ruled over vast territories, commanded fearsome armies of lesser demons and creatures, and constantly made war against each other. The Earth was their home, and their hell.

“About the realms I mentioned. As far as can be ascertained, the reality is comprised of three distinct but partly co-existing realms. There’s the Higher realm which is believed to be the domain of the Powers and other higher beings. We inhabit the Middle realm and then there’s the Lower realm, or Demon Dimension. Our world, the Middle realm, touches these other two in certain ‘spots’. Where these realms ‘touch’, there is a... thinness in the fabric of the reality, making the barriers between them weaker. These spots are called Soft Places. There is another word for the ones touching the Lower realm which I think you’re all familiar with – ‘Hellmouth’.

“Eventually the powers the Old Ones wielded and unleashed became uncontrollable and resulted in an apocalypse, perhaps the greatest in this realm’s history so far. Time and space were almost unravelled making it difficult to really know the true age of this world. You have probably heard of one aspect of this apocalypse by another name. It happened approximately 66 million years ago and is today known as the Chicxulub event. This wanton destruction of almost the whole world ended the Old Ones’ claim over this realm. Most of them were killed, and all but a few remaining ones were banished to the Lower realm along with their crippled hosts, in a greatly diminished capacity – most likely by an intervention of the Powers.

“The catastrophe also caused the divide between the realms to widen for a long time and the Soft Places became mere shadows of themselves for millions of years. Most of them were simply wiped out.

“Severely weakened as they were, the few Old Ones who remained in this realm didn’t, or perhaps couldn’t, take advantage of the power vacuum that resulted from the apocalypse that almost wiped out every supernatural being on Earth. They hid themselves, perhaps slept for long eons in the deep recesses of the Earth, and for a long time the world was a relatively peaceful place.

“And then, in time, humans appeared.

“It is believed that the remaining few Old Ones saw early on the potential in humans to eventually become like them. They decided that the human race would need to be balanced by other forces, so that they wouldn’t become a dominant power without opposition and struggle.

“A few of them focused on creating a new race out of their own substance. Others mixed their essence in various ways with animals... and humans, giving birth to the races of the current hybrid demons that walk the Earth – including vampires.

“The power they poured into their work weakened them further and they eventually lost their ability to maintain their original forms. After a time, they were diminished enough to lose their physical manifestation altogether. Their essence lives on, though – both in their works and other intangible forms – as they are basically eternal and indestructible.

“Before the ultimate demise of the original Old Ones, however, those who had created the new race from themselves migrated with their ‘descendants’ to what is today’s New Zealand. Elsewhere humans, vampires and younger demons multiplied and covered the Earth.”

* * *

Rowan stayed silently for a full minute at this point. The only sound in the library was the furious scribbling by Giles in his notebook. “Now I’ve briefly covered the myths and legends. Next, I’ll move to what is history. I expect you to have some questions at this point.”

Surprisingly, it was Faith who opened her mouth first. “The guy in the cave. Where does he fit in all this?”

Rowan nodded his head a few times in contemplation. It was obvious the events in the cave had been bothering the Slayer deeply. “I was going to cover that topic separately, Faith, but I guess this is as good a time as any. That being was known to us simply as ‘The Hegemon’. Not much is known about its true nature and... it didn’t see fit to divulge any additional information on that topic while I was...

“Anyway, The Hegemon is pure power, believed to be the darkness inside the hearts, spirits and souls of all living creatures – a manifestation of all evil in existence. In any case, it is an incorporeal entity that can assume the form of any being who has died. It has no physical body and cannot be killed or destroyed. As such it also cannot truly interact with the physical world. In this realm it appears as dead persons allowing it to impersonate people for the purpose of manipulating others.

“The Hegemon is also the absolute ruler of the Lower realm, itself a place of all-permeating evil; the High Lord of Demon Lords and Hell Gods, whatever they wish to call themselves. All the domains ruled by the remaining Old Ones or other powerful demons in the Lower realm are just small portions of the whole and only The Hegemon can move freely between them, or exist in all of them simultaneously, like they were only imaginarily separated instead of by hard dimensional barriers.

“As you have heard from what I’ve told you, the world’s history has been full of horrors and catastrophes. It is believed that it was due to The Hegemon’s influence that this world, which could have been a paradise, was made a hell by the Old Ones. Later we became tangled within that influence which resulted in yet another catastrophe. I’ll return to this further down the story for it is deeply connected with my personal history.”

Not surprisingly, it was Giles who had the next question. “About the nature of the Old Ones. They are a race of, well, pure-breed demons, yes?”

Rowan could already guess where this was going to lead, so he simply nodded his head.

“So, that would make you...?”

“Yes. I’m of the race the Old Ones created from their own substance. A different kind of terror than the vampires and demons for the primitive humans.”

“But you’re not evil!” Willow burst out without thinking and, again, turned to deep crimson.

Rowan shrugged his shoulders. “Not by nature or any compelling urge to cause destruction just for its own sake. The Old Ones never divulged to us their true motives for making us like we are, which is an almost total antithesis to what they represented. But I’ll leave the final decision to you.”

Xander raised his hand at this point. “That Chic... Chic... event you mentioned. It rings a bell somehow. What was that about?”

Willow recovered quickly and started practically bouncing up and down in her chair in excitement. “It was the meteor strike that killed the dinosaurs, Xander. It struck the Earth in the Yucatán peninsula near the present-day town of Chixulub, Mexico.”

Rowan nodded. “Essentially correct. It wasn’t a meteor strike, though, but something the Old Ones unleashed. The results were the same and I guess the evidence can be interpreted to make a bolide impact the likely cause.”

Next it was Gwen who raised her voice. “How do _you_ know all this?” she asked almost hostilely. “You just got here, and now you’re acting like you know the full arcane history of the world back and forth.”

“I understand your scepticism, Gwen,” Rowan answered gently. “I will describe my personal history a bit later, including what happened here after my arrival.”

Gwen opened her mouth again but was interrupted by the phone. Giles went to answer and informed them that their food delivery had arrived.

* * *

Their meal was mostly a silent affair as all were deep in thought. After the table was cleared, Rowan continued.

“Like our Old One ancestors, we are... long-lived. Our numbers were always small, and births were few and far between. The Old Ones who brought the first members of our race to Selenia, as we called our lands, remained there in the beginning, making the South Island their abode while we settled in the North Island.

“Before their time finally ran out, the Old Ones left us with some of their knowledge – certain vestiges and magics... talents. Some other aspects of their vast knowledge they hid in other parts of the world. It is from this time that basically all arcane lore about the Primordium Age still left in the world originates.

“Our civilization grew slowly in the North Island over the years, centred around the largest mountain in Selenia which in the past had been the location of one of the Soft Places. Today that mountain is known as the Taupo Volcano.”

“But there’s no such mountain in New Zealand,” Willow interjected before her brain caught up and she went totally white for a change.

“I see you’re beginning to understand, Willow. It’s a vicious cycle of death and destruction which has been this world’s destiny since the Primordium Age,” Rowan said gravely and continued.

“The world around us changed but we kept ourselves hidden and confined within Selenia. We became aware of the newly active Soft Place within our lands when powerful demons started to be seen there frequently. Also, around that time, groups of relatively peaceful, younger demons were escaping the newly established tyrannical rule of these ancient demons in the lands near the other Soft Places. So, Selenia became sort of a haven for those escaping the oppression of their new Lords. These demons also brought humans to Selenia from their lands for fun and for fo... other entertainment. They were the first humans to live in today’s New Zealand.

“There was never a full-out conflict between Selenia and the Lower realm until... my time when The Hegemon once again became actively involved in the goings on of the world.

“More and more ancient demons and primal vampires entered our lands and, from information received from demons escaping to Selenia, all areas surrounding the other Soft Places as well. We couldn’t directly help the humans and other creatures in peril in those lands, but we formed an... alliance called ‘The Companions of Light’ to fight for the survival of our people and those who depended on us.

“We learned from our allies that four other Soft Places had become active in the world after millions of years of dormancy. Besides direct combat, we devised a strategy to seal these spots once and for all before they once again manifested themselves in a way that would allow unlimited access to this realm from the Lower one. If left to themselves, they would have eventually enabled the large hosts from the Primordium Age to once again enter the world _en masse_ , instead of just a few individuals at a time as the Soft Places were still like half-open doors instead of fully wide gateways.

“So, a team of the Companions, the most skilled Elementalists of our people with a select few of our allies, pooled all their resources, powers and knowledge together and constructed five Seals to block the Soft Places. It was a desperate attempt but ultimately successful. The Companions were betrayed in the end but not before the Seals had been secretly put in place waiting to be activated.

“This is where my personal story really begins.”

* * *

“My full name is A’Rowane Than’Shea. I was the leader, _Framadar_ , of the Companions when the plan to seal the Soft Places was put into action. Despite everything, there was still opposition to the plan, even within the Companions themselves. We didn’t know at that time that The Hegemon had been able to corrupt certain key people with promises of ultimate power and absolute dominance over the world.

“When the time came to carry out the final stage of the plan, we were betrayed. The one who led the fifth column was my... lover at that time, one called Aryane, perhaps the greatest Elementalist of them all.

“For some reason their strike was only half-executed. They managed to kill most of the command team responsible for co-ordinating the sealing and destroy the strike teams on the sites. As far as I know, only two survived the attack; myself and my _aide de camp_.

“The Key, literally, to our success was a certain Sylph, a... concentration of some mystical energy by the name of Aurora. For an anguishing moment after the betrayal we thought we had been defeated. But when it became apparent, through Aurora, that all the Seals were in place and ready to be activated, we knew that with just us three remaining, the plan could still work.

“Then I made the fateful decision that defined my future and possible destiny as well. We found out that Aryane and several others of the enemy’s top hierarchy had entered the Lower realm through the Soft Place in Selenia to meet with The Hegemon. We realized then that it was possible to get them all trapped if we moved swiftly. I realized I wanted to face her one more time and perhaps perish with her. In the end, Aurora and I went through the barrier and the fissure to the Lower realm.

“Their get-together had just ended, and they were ready to return to the world when we were spotted. Fearing that we would lose our only opportunity, I ordered Aurora to go back through the fissure while I made my way back more slowly holding them back. When it became certain that I would be overwhelmed, I made a mad dash towards the barrier and ordered Aurora to lock the Seals. I never made it back.

“I was almost at the barrier when the Seals slammed into place. The Hegemon and the others released a massive salvo of power against the Seals which ignited a catastrophic chain of events. I was sucked into the Void between the realms and the... other effects were cataclysmic, to say the least. What I know of subsequent events is the result of the same mind invasion that Faith witnessed a few days ago.

“The Seals withstood the assault but the interconnected elemental bindings which make up the incorporeal aspects of the Seals released a colossal burst of energy. Most of the demons, friend or foe, and primal vampires in the world were instantly killed as the released energy swept all over the globe and resonated with their core being; the Seals having been tuned to repeal just their kind of creatures.

“Their assault hit the Seal of Spirit hardest and, as a final result, the Taupo Volcano erupted and... and... our... people, everyone living in Selenia, perished, like our ancestors before us. All this happened approximately 26,500 years ago. The world was once more relatively free of truly powerful demons and other supernatural beings, but the cost... the sacrifices...”

Giles was the first out of his chair when he saw the anguish in Rowan’s face and heard the self-loathing in his voice. He took the distressed descendant of the Old Ones in a tight embrace and soon felt being embraced himself. He wanted to offer some soothing words without sounding patronizing. “None of that was your fault,” he said. “I may never understand the magnitude of what you and your Companions did, but what happened afterwards was not your fault. You prevented an apocalypse, although with great cost, and every living creature today probably owes their life to your actions.”

* * *

It took a few minutes for Rowan to regain his composure. Everyone around the table had their gaze fixed on the table before them. Willow was quietly wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

“The Void,” Rowan continued. “It’s not really a place, it’s the absence of everything that a place is made out of; no space, no time. I have no idea how much time passed in the world for every... moment there. I guess I must have slept through most of the long years. Once I got out, I realized that I had only a few scattered memories from my time in the Void.” Rowan stole a quick glance at Buffy. Beside the events leading to his release, her “visit” was one of only a few real memories he could recall.

“Then I was released. One moment the Void was pierced by a vortex, and a voice in my head told me to jump in. I’m sure it was an intervention of the Powers. The next I knew I was lying on the Seal of Fire in the basement of this school.”

Giles squeezed the armrests of his chair so that they creaked. “The Hellmouth here is sealed by one of your Seals?”

“Yes, Rupert. Thus, the past shakes hands with the present.”

“Absolutely astonishing,” Giles murmured in awe. Even Gwen seemed somewhat shaken. Up until now they hadn’t really been able to connect Rowan’s tale with what was real to them.

“Like I mentioned earlier, there are five Soft Places in the world,” Rowan continued. “The one in Sunnydale you obviously know of, and probably of the one in Cleveland, Ohio as well. The remaining three are in New Zealand, Siberia and Europe. All of them are still sealed; the one in Sunnydale with Fire, or _Danzalthar_ in the Old Tongue, the one in Cleveland with Air, _Sihaxendä_ , the one in New Zealand with Spirit, _Praxidias_ , the one in Siberia with Earth, _Finzechior_ , and the one in Styria, Austria with Water, _Mizodinwä_. Five elements, five Seals, connected and strengthening each other. The Soft Places are not the only ways in or out of the Lower realm, as I believe you know from experience, but the Seals prevent large hosts and immense creatures, like the original Old Ones, from crossing over.

“The Soft Places are not stationary. Like volcanic hot spots they... migrate over time, and, by that, I mean geologic timescales. The Seals take that into account, however, by... re-positioning themselves constantly. But then something unforeseen happened quite recently.”

“There was an attempt about 90 years ago by a cult worshipping the Old Ones, a cult called the Sisterhood of Jhe, to destroy one of the Seals, the one in Siberia, in order to enable their long absent masters’ return to this realm. They deceived a misunderstood genius named Nikola Tesla to help them and, as a result, large areas around Tunguska, Russia were completely laid to waste. The Seal of Earth withstood the attempt, but it was enough to... shake all the connected Seals loose by an almost imperceptible measure. The Seals were loosened just enough for the Soft Places to start once again really attracting demons and other supernatural beings, essentially becoming focal points for arcane activity.”

Rowan turned to face Gwen. “Now, Gwen, to answer your question regarding all this knowledge.

“I got out of the cavern where the Seal of Fire is located and found an abandoned storeroom in the school’s basement. I slept there and was later found by a janitor who loaned me his spare overalls. He led me out of the building, and I made my way to the cemetery where I encountered Faith. To make a long story shorter, Faith took me to Buffy’s and the Slayers together took me to Giles’ who brought me to this library the next day.

“I was looking for any information about the Sealing and the aftermath but soon realized that no direct evidence of my time could be found in the books here. Then I saw the large world map on the wall over there. I recognized the overall layout of the world and then... the large lake in the middle of the North Island where a mountain had stood. I sort of went... desperate for answers since no-one could understand me in this time. I had tried with a fledgling vampire, the one Faith found me with, but it was of no use. I realize now that I should have waited and researched more on my own but, like I said... desperate and not yet fully oriented with the hard reality of the here and now.

“Anyway, when I found myself on the Seal of Fire, I noticed the infinitesimal but constant leaking. It made me think that it was possible for a... Reflection of the Lower realm to manifest itself here. Hence the map you saw me hovering over. A Reflection is an anomaly and thus rejects all direct attempts at scrying. Moving a mentally constructed pendulum over the Sunnydale map in an outward moving spiral, starting from the Seal’s location, I was able to find a place on which the pendulum failed to centre.

“Faith followed me there and witnessed an encounter between me and The Hegemon. I wanted answers and was determined to get them even from the Ultimate Enemy, the Master of Lies. Instead of answering my questions, The Hegemon said it would ‘even out the playfield’. Then it... tore my mind wide open and poured pure unfiltered sensations inside my mind and spirit. While I was unconscious afterwards, the... data became part of me. It’s like... I’ve always known all this.

“I can understand and speak languages that didn’t exist back then. I know about the history of the world and can conceivably recite, for example, the history of the Slayers in my sleep. The Hegemon’s motives are unknown and incomprehensible, and the knowledge it imbued me with is most likely... biased. But I know for a fact that it has its ‘eyes’ on the Slayer line. Something is going to happen soon that’s going to redefine the destiny of the Slayers. Maybe that’s why I have this information – as a form of torture. To feel connected but, ultimately, unable to prevent it. The Hegemon’s final words to me were: ‘The line of Slayers will come to an end and you will be there to witness it.’”

* * *

The silence following Rowan’s final announcement was tumultuous. Faith was the first to react. “Is it gonna be you?” she demanded, rising to her feet. She shrugged off Buffy’s attempt to calm her down.

“I honestly can’t say,” Rowan answered truthfully. “The Hegemon spoke to me in the Old Tongue and its complexity makes translations very difficult. The one I offered is far from the only interpretation possible. But yes, Faith, the threat, or possible prophecy, can be deconstructed in a way that says I will be the one doing the deed.”

Faith was not used to such brutal but sincere honesty and it helped cool down her initial anger. She sat back down and, to everyone’s surprise, smiled secretively. “Good to know where we’re at,” she murmured quietly.

After a long silence, Willow raised her hand. “You mentioned the Lower realm and Hellmouths,” she started. “Are there... Heavenmouths?”

“I don’t know, Willow,” Rowan said quietly. “I think there have to be, but none have ever been discovered. The Powers must have hidden their tracks well enough for them to be undetectable by the powers and skills we possess.”

“What about your people, if you don’t mind me asking?” Giles asked. “You said that everyone in your homeland perished after the volcano erupted, but can you be sure? Maybe The Hegemon just wants you to believe that. Their descendants could still be out there, somewhere. And what about those who were left in the Lower realm after the Seals were locked?”

Rowan stayed silent for a long time before answering. “If they are out there, I will find them, eventually. But that’s something for another time.” Time was something he had. “About... Aryane and the others. When we were testing the Seals, we found out that they would work against anyone carrying the specific signature of the Old Ones, like the members of our race for example. So, while the Seals remain active, they are stuck down there. Do I feel sorry for them? Yes... no... maybe. For me their betrayal is still too fresh. For them it’s been... much longer.”

“You think they could still be alive?” Giles asked in shock.

“Yes,” Rowan answered simply but with conviction. Giles simply nodded, not wishing to push the issue further.

Taking a few calming breaths, Rowan looked around expectantly waiting for more questions. None came.

“It’s a lot to digest, I know,” he continued. “I don’t expect you to be able to formulate all the questions you might have right now. If you wish, I promise to be at your disposal any time you want to discuss the past events or any other topic I can help you with. I told Rupert earlier that it seems I will be here for the long haul. Any way I can help you, I will.”

Giles rose from his chair and coughed delicately. “Well, I’m not sure if I can speak for everyone but I’d be happy to see you fighting on our side.” No one else spoke but there was an almost universal nodding of heads around the table. Only Gwen remained totally still.

Rowan felt a tightness he hadn’t realized was there loosen inside his chest. He looked at Buffy and Faith. “Well, Slayers, how do you break in new recruits? Should I start by fetching books for the researchers or should I do food-runs?”

Buffy couldn’t keep her amusement inside. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, obviously, a newcomer starts at the bottom of the food-chain,” Rowan explained further. “What did you do when Faith arrived?”

Buffy and Faith looked at each other in confusion. “We went to the Bronze,” Buffy said slowly.

Rowan closed his eyes briefly, remembering. The initiation rites of the Companions had been long, demanding and, yes, even cruel. It had been necessary, though. But still, regardless of the fine sieve, not all the recruits had been immune to the temptations offered by The Hegemon.

“Look, you don’t have to...,” Buffy said, taken slightly aback. “You were... you are...”

“I know what I was there and then, Buffy,” Rowan said quietly. “But this is the here and now.”

There was a long silence. Finally, Buffy and Faith exchanged a glance. “A tour?” Buffy asked the other Slayer.


	11. Chapter 11

“And here’s where we keep our standard weaponry,” Buffy said, standing inside the metal cage with Faith. She had opened the large metal cabinet which held their selection of axes, crossbows, swords, knives, maces, quarterstaffs, morning stars, crosses, stakes and so on, plus their Holy Water supply.

Rowan was standing in the cage’s doorway with his lips pursed, nodding politely over the display. Both girls could see that he wasn’t impressed. “Buffy, Faith, humour me a little, please,” he said when Rupert came to stand by his side with a cup of tea in his hand. Maybe a small demonstration wouldn’t be out of order; this group of people appeared to be full of extraordinary talent. Both girls nodded, so he continued. “There are exactly two weapons in there. Can you point them out to me?”

Faith and Buffy exchanged a surprised look and then turned to Giles for help. The Watcher was standing by Rowan, at ease, not giving any indication that aid was available from him.

Gwen had heard the challenge and snorted. “Regardless of the quality, or lack thereof, of the present book collection, the weapons cache here is, surprisingly enough, exactly as mandated by Council rules.”

Rowan turned his amber eyes to the Watcher. He could feel her stiffen from the look. “From what I... know, it seems the main problem with the Council is their blind adherence to rules and regulations, Gwen. They fail to see what’s essential, a trait which is apparently propagated by their Academy’s curriculum.” He turned to the other Watcher. “Rupert, I have a feeling you have an idea of what I’m trying to demonstrate here.”

“I have a notion, yes,” Giles answered with a slight smile on his lips.

Buffy and Faith had been whispering to each other trying to figure out whether Rowan was serious or just joking at their expense.

“There’s nothing in here that we have just two of,” Faith whispered.

“Maybe he meant that only axes and swords are real weapons,” Buffy whispered back.

“But we have dusted way more vamps with stakes than with any other weapon.”

“Well?” they heard Rowan’s vibrant voice ask gently. Both Slayers shrugged their shoulders and turned to face him and Giles.

“I guess we flunked,” Faith said quietly. Buffy nodded in agreement.

“Alright,” Rowan said. “I’ll point out one to you. Let’s see if you can guess the other one.”

Faster than a human could have reacted, Rowan suddenly _flowed_ from his current relaxed standstill to a spot within attack distance of Faith, and his stiffened fingers struck at her throat. Reacting instinctively Faith blocked the approaching hand aside and countered with a fist to Rowan’s solar plexus. To her surprise, Rowan was able to grab her fist to a firm grip and at the same time counter with an elbow to her jaw. She barely blocked the attempt and then struck with her hand at his throat. A triumphant flash went through her as she noticed that there was no way Rowan could block it. But at the same time her hand tightened around his throat, she felt a similar sensation around her own.

“Time out,” she heard Rowan say in nearly a whisper and then the hand loosened from around her throat. She did likewise and let her arms fall limply down. She was breathing heavily. ‘ _Fuck me_ ,’ she thought in astonishment. The whole exchange had taken less than two seconds.

Buffy just stood still when the two loosened their hold of each other. ‘ _What did I just see?_ ’ She barely realized that Rowan had just addressed her.

“Wow! I mean... what?” she stuttered and blinked a few times.

“What do you say?” Rowan prompted.

“What? Did I say ‘what’ already? What?”

“I think he means it’s us, B,” Faith said quietly. She took the blonde Slayer’s hand to her own and squeezed it lightly.

Rowan was not at all surprised that it was Faith, who had realized the answer first. “Yes, Faith, Buffy. You. The only two real weapons in there are you two. The stuff in the cabinet is just... tools and extensions. They are useless if the mind and body wielding them are not one with them. With your Slayer strength you could probably rip a vampire’s head off their shoulders, no tools needed. Keep your tools in good condition but yourself in better, both physically and mentally. Now, please excuse me. Regarding tools, I need to talk to Willow.” Two very confused-looking Slayers were left in the cage looking at each other.

* * *

Willow, Oz and Xander had been watching the scene play out in mute astonishment. Willow let out a high-pitched squeak when Rowan turned to face them and approached the table at which she was working with her laptop. She felt Oz’s arms sneak protectively around her waist.

“Willow, you’re very good with... computers, right?” Rowan asked and hopped to sit on the edge of the table.

“Oh, no! I’m...”

“She is,” Oz said.

“You are also a Witch.” That was a statement.

“How did you...?”

“I can see it in your aura,” Rowan said. Then, noticing Willow’s near panic, he continued. “I’m not reading you, Willow, I promise. I’d never do that without your permission unless your life depended on that. It’s just something that is impossible not to notice. Can you read auras?”

“I... I can sometimes glimpse them, like out of the corner of my eye. I haven’t been able to maintain it long enough to even attempt a reading.”

“I think I could help you there, also with some aspects of your magic. Myself, I’ve never had much use for spells and invocations.”

“I know!” Willow exclaimed excitedly before turning beet red. “I mean, the hole you created sort of gave me a hint that you can do Elemental Magic.”

“It’s something I’m familiar with, yes,” Rowan said, winking at her. “I have no doubt that someday you’ll be able to as well.”

Rowan turned his attention to Xander, leaving Willow blushing prettily. Oz was whispering in her ear with a smile.

“You have been in the military, Xander,” Rowan said after giving the boy a once-over. There was something in Xander’s posture that spoke volumes to Rowan.

“How did you...? Never mind, I got it. Takes one to know one. Anyway, it was kind of an accident.” Xander gave Rowan a brief description of the Halloween costume party the year before.

“That’s very interesting,” Rowan said with a furrowed brow. “None of the others seem to show any lingering after-effects. Maybe your transformation resonated with something that was already in you. I think you should embrace it more. There are never enough good soldiers in teams like this.”

“Yes, Sir!” Xander said with a grin and saluted. “I’m just a grunt, though. You were an officer, I can tell. What was your rank?”

“It was so long ago that the rank of _Framadar_ does not have any meaning in this time,” Rowan shrugged.

“Xander,” Willow whispered urgently and beckoned him lower. “He was the leader of the Companions, remember?” she whispered in Xander’s ear.

“Oh,” Xander whispered. “ _Oh!_ ”

“Over and done with,” Rowan said dismissively. “But something big is brewing and a little bit of tactical and strategic planning here and there might not go amiss. If anything like that is ever required, I’d be happy to assist. I hope we’ll be friends first, though.” Rowan flashed an impish smirk. “And don’t worry, I won’t be pulling rank on you.”

Xander cleared his throat, visibly moved, and came to stand in front of Rowan. “You know. If I had any gay tendencies, I’d...”

Rowan smiled at Xander and slid a finger down the boy’s cheek. “Sorry, Xander. I’m already spoken for on that front,” he said with a mischievous chuckle.

“What!?” Xander said in astonishment. He put a hand on the cheek Rowan had just touched. He was not used to such uninhibited shows of affection, especially by other males. But it had felt... nice.

“Oh, this janitor who loaned me the overalls. He has a crush on me and gave me his phone number.”

Xander felt his ears redden. “Are you? You know...”

“Gay? No, but then again, I’m not straight either, if you wish. Those human concepts don’t have a meaning to me outside their definitions.”

Oz and Willow were watching Rowan’s and Xander’s interaction with grins on their face. Their initial awe was quickly vanishing at Rowan’s easy and carefree disposition towards them.

“You play?” Oz asked. To Xander and Willow this was a clear sign of further acceptance.

“Nothing anyone in this time would recognize as an instrument. I’ve been told I have an acceptable singing voice, though.” ‘ _Though nothing compared to you, Aurora,’_ he thought wistfully.

“Acceptable?” Xander asked. “Acceptable like... in the sense of you having acceptable fighting skills?”

“Something along those lines, yes.” Rowan chuckled.

“I know!” Willow bounced up and down excitedly. “We should have a karaoke party, to welcome you here. Not that I will participate... in the singing part I mean.”

Oz and Xander looked at each other and nodded in synch. They had both heard Willow “sing” before.

“Cool,” Oz commented. “I can get equipment.”

* * *

The two Slayers and Watchers had been taking in the whole scene from a distance. Both Buffy and Faith were watching everything unfold in mute astonishment, occasionally giving each other surreptitious looks. Giles was trying to suppress a laughter. Gwen was standing like a statue with her arms crossed over her chest.

“He’s very good,” Buffy eventually whispered to Faith.

“Definitely better than me with first impressions,” Faith whispered back.

“I don’t think that’s an act,” Giles said softly.

 _‘Are they all blind? Of course it’s an act_ ,’ Gwen thought to herself. ‘ _And a very dangerous one at that._ ’

* * *

“Oh, wait,” Willow suddenly remembered. “You wanted something from me?”

“Yes, with this computer here you can access information from anywhere, right?” Rowan asked.

“Well, if it’s in the Internet, I’m pretty sure I can find it.”

“Internet? Something like a... distributed library? I’m sorry, I lack the proper terminology. Apparently The Hegemon didn’t consider that area of information high priority distribution-wise.”

“No! As descriptions go, that was a pretty good one. What should I look for?” She spread her fingers eagerly on the basic positions on the keyboard.

“Swords. The ones in the closet are adequate, I guess. However, I’d like to see what kind of swords there are in this time – if there’s anything currently available that’s like what we used to have.”

“I don’t see why not,” Rupert said from behind them. “There are only so many ways a bar of metal can be hammered into a functional blade. What kind of swords are you used to?”

“I’m mostly familiar with slashing blades, so – one edge and slightly curved would be my preference. It should be two-handed with the blade about 29” long, overall length about 12” more with cross-guard and handle. The weight should be around 2.5 lb.”

“ _Nihonto_ ,” Faith growled from the other side of the table. She and Buffy had joined the others around the table behind Giles. Gwen stayed a few steps behind the rest of the group.

“Come again?” Giles asked.

“ _Nihonto_ , Japanese sword?” Faith looked around with a “duh” look on her face. “Ok, ‘ _katana_ ’, then,” she sighed finally.

Rowan gave Faith a grateful smile which made the Slayer shudder almost imperceptibly. “Can you show me, Willow?”

“Sure!” the red-haired hacker said happily. “I can do an image search on Japanese swords. Just a sec.”

Everyone leaned in closer to the laptop screen as the search brought image after image of Japanese swords on the screen. There were images of other kinds of swords distributed among the searched-for pictures; Viking swords, gladii, claymores, sabres of all kind, long swords, hand-and-a-half swords, broadswords, scimitars and so on.

“Hmm,” Rowan mused as the images scrolled on the screen. “A _katana_ definitely looks familiar. The cross-guard is different, though, and there’s no pommel. The tip of the blade is also less pointed. I think I could get familiar with one fairly easy. Willow, can you find out who is the best maker of these?”

Faith barked an amused laugh. “Well, Hattori Hanzo, naturally. But it’s practically impossible to get an export license for one of his blades.”

“How do you know all this?” Buffy asked from Faith’s side.

“Manga and anime, mostly, some samurai movies on top,” Faith shrugged.

“Wait!” Willow interrupted them. “A name pops up frequently in various American sword forums. Howard Clark. It seems he has perfected a technique for forging excellent blades out of L6 bainite steel.”

“‘L’ what now?” Xander asked, totally perplexed.

“‘L6’ or ‘low-alloy special purpose steel’ is a grade of tool steel characterized by its low-carbon content and very good toughness,” Willow read from a page listing the various grades of steel. Browsing further she found links related to sword-making. “’L6 steel is heated and worked until it forms bainite. Bainite, which allows the steel to remain harder and hold an edge longer, is an extremely desirable part of the steel, and it’s what makes L6 steel so unique.’”

“Sounds promising,” Rowan nodded. “Where can I get one?”

“Let me see. Oh!” Willow breathed.

“What is it?”

“It seems that the price for a bare blade alone is about $5,000 and then the polishing and mounting approximately doubles that.”

Xander whistled. “Wow. $10,000 for a piece of forged steel. They sell katanas at the mall for $50.”

Faith snorted. “You really don’t know nothin’, X-Man. Those wall-decorations have nothing to do with real _nihonto_. They are individual pieces of art as much as weap... er... tools. It’s said the best swordsmiths imbue their blades with aspects of their soul. A Hattori blade, for example, is practically priceless.” She sighed wistfully.

Buffy looked at Faith with surprise. They had rarely heard her talk about anything with such passion.

Faith winked at Buffy and then yawned hugely.

“Dear Lord, it’s late,” Giles proclaimed, checking his watch. He threw a glance at Gwen who was standing just outside the circle of Scoobies but close enough not to miss anything. “May I?” he asked the other Watcher.

Gwen sniffed haughtily and turned away. She felt humiliated. She was not used to not being the centre of activity. The... boy was definitely an unwelcome influence.

“Buffy, Faith. Do you think you could do a quick sweep on the cemeteries along your route home and to the motel?”

“Will do, G,” Faith said with enthusiasm. “Coming, girlfriend?”

Soon Giles and Rowan were the only ones left in the library.

“Well, today has truly been extraordinary,” Giles said, cleaning his glasses. “You made quite an impression.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had real friends,” Rowan said. “Today has made me feel like I could finally lay my past to rest, at least for a while. I’ve no doubt it will come back to haunt me sometime in the future. It’s like I said – I’m here for some reason, a reason which may not make itself clear for years. The Powers work in mysterious ways. But something has begun here in Sunnydale in these past few days.”

“I know,” Giles said solemnly. “Let’s go home.”

“Rupert...,” Rowan started.

“You’re welcome to stay with me until better opportunities arise. I’ll clean up the room over the weekend, so you’ll have more space. I’ll also give you a spare key.”

Rowan couldn’t help smiling. “I have said this to you before, but I’m in your debt, Watcher.” He repeated the same in the Old Tongue.

Hearing the Language of Legends spoken with such ease made Giles excited every time. He tried to recall the infinitesimal knowledge he had of the language and form a reply.

Rowan laughed merrily at Rupert’s attempt. “Was I even close?” Giles asked expectantly.

“Depends. Is your wife really a big hippo?”

They left the library together, laughing.


	12. Chapter 12

For most of the following days Giles and Rowan spent their time together in the library going through the Watcher’s notes from the meeting. There were lots of more in-depth questions, corrections, further explanations, references to obscure arcane works and so on until Giles had managed, to some degree, create a coherent outline of what would probably take months or even years to put into writing.

Not surprisingly, all the high schoolers, except for Willow, seemed quite content with the story Rowan had told them and didn’t feel like further interrogation was necessary, at least for now. Willow joined the two in the library whenever she had even a few minutes of spare time to check through Giles’ progress so far and ask clarifying questions about topics that especially interested her.

* * *

Giles had just put his notebooks away and gone to his private office for some tea when Xander entered the library. Rowan was reading an old Latin manuscript, and Xander plopped in a chair opposite him. He was secretly glad to have a new guy around to balance the ‘guy quota’ against Buffy, Willow, Faith and Cordy. Oz was cool and all but not really one to have meaningful multi-syllable conversations with. And Giles? Cure for insomnia once he got the gears rolling.

“Now that we have some time, I’d like to know more about glamours, if you don’t mind?” Giles asked when he returned to the library with a steaming cup of tea. “It doesn’t appear to be just an illusion.”

“There’s some of that, too,” Rowan answered, lifting his eyes from the text. “There are glamours with differing levels of illusion and real transformation. A simple illusion is easy to dispel and see through if you know what you’re looking for. But if it’s anchored to a physical core, you’d have to be significantly stronger than the one holding the glamour to disbelieve or dispel it.”

Rowan showed the underside of his arm to Giles and continued.

“If you were to, for example, take a blood sample while I’m wearing the glamour, it would register as human blood. The anchor also makes the glamour easier to maintain, even when asleep or unconscious, and quicker to draw and drop. It’s also why an anchored glamour is able to withstand reveal spells and magic cancellation better than a just pure illusion.”

“You always seem to take the same form when you, erm... draw the glamour upon yourself. Is that the anchor?”

“Yes. The ritual itself is quite simple but requires non-demon essence to anchor it. The anchor can be human or animal. I used a human boy from a tribe of hunter-gatherers. The humans who lived in Selenia back then had been brought there by the demons who had taken residence there, and later either escaped or set free. Crafting a glamour for oneself requires knowing and understanding the anchor and a sort of... bonding. If you hurry the ritual, the end result can be... less than pleasing. In extreme cases it might be irreversible or even lethal. So, I spent considerable time trailing and spying on their tribe, watching and learning. I made sure he caught fleeting glimpses of me every now and then, to tickle his curiosity and imagination. Action and reaction, you see.”

“Then what?” Xander asked, transfixed by the tale.

“The ritual requires that you lock your anchor somewhere within the scale between _you_ and the other. There are different... benefits and disadvantages on either end of the scale; one disadvantage being that the further along the scale you go, the longer it takes to draw and drop the glamour. A full transformation takes the longest. I decided to remain quite close to the _me_ end. I can still project and withdraw my aura but cannot access the elements in my glamour form. Anyway, one night when the human boy was alone guarding their camp, I lured him farther away into the dark and seduced him. I needed to ingest some of his essence to initiate the ritual.”

“What? You drank his blood?!” Xander exclaimed, sounding horrified.

“Nothing so crude, Xander. I thought you had understood by now. Essence given freely is always preferable to that obtained through violent means, especially if you care about aesthetics. There are... other fluids that a person will freely donate to someone they lust after – ecstatically, even,” Rowan said smiling and winked at Xander.

“I don’t... Oh!” Xander went suddenly very quiet, his face turning to a deep red colour.

Giles had to turn quickly away to hide his amusement. “You didn’t mention the advantages of a form nearer the _other_ end,” he asked quietly without looking at Rowan or Xander.

Rowan gave Giles’ turned back an amused smile. “I thought you’d have guessed the obvious one, Rupert. Near the other end it becomes possible to breed with them, with various results.”

“You mean...?”

“Yes. Like I said the other day, basically all the demon races that exist on Earth today are hybrid breeds anyway; from the time the Old Ones mixed their essence with that of the primitive humans and animals. Some races can breed with humans as they are, some require the anchor. Then there’s the matter of breeding with the various animal races. Hellhounds and wargs are examples of hybrid demons further mingling their blood with the animal kingdom.”

“But you, for example, cannot... have babies with a human female, even with the glamour on?”

Rowan gave a wry chuckle. “Believe me, that was never an issue back then.”

Xander sighed theatrically. “Some people have all the luck. You have the looks and you don’t have to worry about pregnancies.”

“That’s assuming I even regard human females... desirable,” Rowan deadpanned with a smirk. Xander was so easy... Anyway, he did; the few days in Sunnydale had confirmed that. He supposed the Old Ones had imprinted that in their race’s core – genetic incompatibility notwithstanding. A different kind of terror, and so on...

“Ah... huh...,” Xander spluttered. Rowan could see Rupert’s shoulders shake as the Watcher leaned against the counter for support.

When Xander was once again able to think straight, something occurred to him. “Why?” he asked.

“Why what, Xander?” Rowan asked back.

“Why would you have even _needed_ a glamour back then, and a human one at that? I mean... I’d understand if you wanted to make yourself more... glamorous, but obviously you have no need for that.”

“It was never about need. For us it was more like a rite of passage. Like I said, a perfect glamour requires understanding your intended anchor, and yourself for that matter, on a deep level. Going out on your own and coming back with a well-crafted glamour, regardless of what said glamour was, meant that you had achieved some mastery over yourself by using your observational skills and other talents.”

Further discussion was interrupted as the library doors opened with more flourish than they should have been capable of.

“There you are, Xander,” Cordelia addressed the flustered boy in question without further ceremony. Then her eyes landed on Rowan. “Who are you?”

Xander was looking back and forth between Cordelia and Rowan like he was shaking his head. “Cordy? This is Rowan, the guy I told you about. Rowan, Cordelia.”

“Yeah, hi,” Cordelia said to Rowan absent-mindedly, giving him a look out of the corner of her eyes. Then she continued with Xander. “Can you come with me, and get that... thing?”

Xander blinked a few times and then it dawned on him. “Oh, yeah, that thing. We should go... there and get that thing.”

“How remarkably refreshing,” Rowan said with a smile after Xander and Cordelia had left the library. “I think I like her.”

“That’s Cordelia Chase for you,” Giles said, equally amused. “She sees herself as the epitome of human attractiveness, the very Helen of Sunnydale. From that perch it’s not easy to be shaken by the appearance of others. Which reminds me. I have the info about the school janitor you requested. His name is Mike Catterell. I have a list of his working hours on my desk.”

* * *

“Mmmm, Xander! What’s gotten into you?” Cordelia almost moaned as Xander had her pinned against the supply closet shelf and was kissing her more aggressively than he usually did.

“So, what do you think?” Xander breathed in her ear.

“Un...expected. I could get used to this side of you.” She tried to half-heartedly get her arms free of Xander’s hold.

“No, Rowan.”

“Not my type,” Cordelia shrugged, and to her surprise Xander let go of her wrists and took a step back. He was blinking like an owl.

“Excuse me?” Xander asked still not believing his ears. “Not... your... type?”

Cordelia rolled her eyes and pulled Xander back against her. “I’m not into these _bishounen_ type guys.”

“Bis... what now?”

“Ask Faith. She’s the expert,” Cordelia whispered against Xander’s lips and unbuttoned the top five buttons of his shirt. “And I bet he doesn’t have even a single hair on his chest.”

“Cordy...”

“Shut up and kiss me, you fool.”

* * *

To Buffy and Faith’s surprise, Rowan had made no objections when they suggested he go through their weapons arsenal / toolbox and do a maintenance sweep on everything there. Whenever they came to the library in the following days, Rowan was either helping Giles with his notes or within the cage with the brand new maintenance kit he had requested the Watchers to obtain; a vice, a few whetstones and sheets of sandpaper of various grit sizes, polishing oil and cloth, an Opinel #8 whittling knife and a few files with different cuts.

Even though the Slayers knew their success in the field depended partly on the quality and condition of their... tools, neither of them was eager to actually polish and maintain them on a daily basis; or any basis for that matter. That was one of the reasons why they had, half-jokingly, assigned this particular task to Rowan. They still couldn’t quite believe that he was willing to do these kinds of menial jobs in order to be accepted, something that they could have told him was a given, but he never complained. And neither could they, since the work Rowan was doing on their knives, stakes, and other maintenance-requiring tools had so far been exquisite.

They sometimes heard Rowan hum pleasantly to himself when they were sparring with each other and he was sitting in the cage polishing a sword or an axe. So far, he had not asked and neither of them had, well, dared to ask him to participate. Faith, especially, itched for a “rematch” but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. “ _Hey, Bright Eyes. Fight me,_ ” didn’t somehow seem to deliver what she had in mind.

They were practicing high kicks one day after school under Gwen’s tutelage when Rowan exited the metal cage and started for the library doors with the freshly laundered and ironed blue overalls in his hand. He glanced at them briefly.

“Faith, you leave your left side open to a reverse crescent kick,” he said almost absent-mindedly as he walked out of the library.

Both girls stopped what they were doing.

“Do I?” Faith asked, sounding somewhat confused.

“Yes,” Gwen said through clenched teeth, noticing the same in hindsight.

* * *

Mike Catterell was fixing one of the electric steam tables in the empty lunchroom when he heard the door open. “Can’t you read. We’re closed,” he yelled from the floor with his head still inside the cabinet. Getting back to his task of replacing one of the water pipes, he didn’t hear the soft steps which stopped by his side. He nearly banged his head to the cabinet ceiling when something heavy hit the floor next to his legs. Cursing to himself and determined to give the troublemaker a piece of his mind, he clambered out of the cabinet. What he saw first was neatly folded blue overalls on the floor beside him and then an unfamiliar guy sitting on the table closest to the buffet line watching him.

“Look, I’m kinda busy here,” Mike said irritably. “Whaddya want?”

To his surprise the guy didn’t seem fazed at all.

“I came to return you these,” Rowan said and indicated to the overalls beside Mike’s feet.

“I don’t remember...,” Mike started and then the events of several days back returned to him. “Did he send you...?”

Rowan knew it would be easy to pretend to be “a friend” who’s doing a favour to the guy Mike had met, but he owed the janitor a debt and wanted to discharge it honourably.

“How’s the arm?” Rowan asked.

At first Mike didn’t understand the question but then it dawned on him.

“It was you! But how...?”

“Do you believe in magic?”

The question was totally unexpected, and Mike wanted to say “no”. But he had lived in Sunnydale his whole life and... weird stuff occasionally happened there. He was feeling both exited and afraid; exited that this was happening and afraid that it was some elaborate student joke on his account.

“I... I don’t know,” Mike admitted. “I’d like to,” he continued hopefully. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Rowan. Look, this place is a bit too public for this kind of discussion, Mike. Let’s go somewhere with more privacy.”

“Uh, sure,” Mike said looking back to his unfinished work.

“Unless you’d rather I came back another time,” Rowan said, having noticed Mike’s hesitant look.

“No!” Mike said hurriedly. “This can wait until later. They won’t be needing it until lunchtime tomorrow anyway.”

“Let’s go, then. And don’t forget the overalls.”

They walked through the corridors occasionally passing small groups of students. Mike was remembering their previous walk through these corridors, then empty, when Rowan had kept a safe distance between them. This time they were walking side-by-side, but Mike had no illusions of what would happen if he made a threatening move.

As a high school drop-out and gay, Mike had always both loved and hated his work at Sunnydale High. Hated it because it always reminded him of the opportunities he had lost by dropping out. Loved it for all the cute guys he could secretly watch while working. And hated it again because he was too much of a coward to do anything about it.

Mike kept glancing at the boy who was walking gracefully beside him; a sure sign of his martial arts training, and oddly looking like he practically owned the place. Mike became painfully aware of his own slouching steps and tried to straighten up his posture. He felt a sudden desire to take Rowan’s hand in his, the audience be damned, but couldn’t quite summon the courage to do so.

Mike’s hands were shaking when they arrived at the basement door and he almost dropped the large keyring before managing to unlock the door. Some of his fantasies included students and this particular basement, but in none of them had he been the one being practically led there.

Switching on the lights at the top of the stairs, Mike led Rowan down to where he and the other maintenance staff had their “leisure space”. Their lockers stood next to the stairway landing and Mike put the clean-smelling overalls in his before leading Rowan through a door to their “living room”.

Mike was only mildly surprised when Rowan showed no hesitation and immediately found a comfortable seat on the threadbare couch which faced the small TV to which their precious PlayStation was connected. He was unsure whether he should offer his “guest” refreshments, but he was cut short when Rowan just laughed at him. “Don’t worry about playing a host. I’m fine.”

“I still find it hard to believe that you are... well, _him_ ,” Mike said hesitantly after having found a seat on the other side of the couch.

“You still think this could be a prank?” Rowan asked in amusement. When Mike nodded, he continued. “Would you like to see how it’s done or would you rather, well... retain the illusion?”

Deciding to be bold, Mike countered. “If you show me, will you have to kill me afterwards?”

“No, Mike,” Rowan said with a grin and a shake of his head. “Who would believe you?”

Hearing these words, Mike realized that they told the plain truth. No one would believe him if he were to shout... whatever it would be, in the hallways. He was a nobody with no street-cred within the school premises... or anywhere else for that matter.

“Then, show me,” Mike said with conviction.

Mike held his breath in anticipation, balancing between hope and disbelief. Then his throat suddenly tightened as Rowan’s outline rippled and his appearance altered to reveal the face and visage of the person he had met in the deeper recesses of the building.

There was a long silence as amber eyes met blue ones. All of Mike’s confidence left him. “Are you for fucking real?” he asked hoarsely, his emotions in a roller-coast ride.

“This is me, Mike,” Rowan said gently. “You said you’d like to believe in magic. Shall I go on?”

“Alright,” Mike said with a deep sigh. “Sure.”

“This world you see around you, Mike, is just a façade. Living in Sunnydale you probably have an idea of what I’m trying to say here. Even within the premises of this school there have been inexplicable deaths and other weird events that have been hushed-up and never followed-up to.” Seeing Mike nod to his words, Rowan continued. “I’m one of those who can see behind the scenery; one of those who fight in the shadows a fight that’s never-ending. I’m from... another time, really, and as a result of that fight I’m now here. You found me just after I’d... arrived.”

“So, you’re like that Reese guy from ‘The Terminator’?” Mike asked, trying to find a way to justify the information.

At Rowan’s blank stare, Mike explained further. “It’s a movie. This guy, Reese, comes from the future to stop a killer cyborg in the present. That accurate?”

“If you like. I’m not from the future, though.”

“Past, then?”

“I guess you can say that.”

Mike let out a resigned laugh. “Sleeping fucking Beauty,” he muttered, shaking his head and remembering how he had found Rowan originally.

“That’s not too far from the truth,” Rowan chuckled. “My time was... long ago and I did spend a long time asleep before my return back to the world, in this time.”

There was another long silence between them. Mike wanted to say so many things, but each beginning died on his lips for sounding hollow or corny in his mind.

“What are you afraid of?” Rowan asked gently seeing the torment behind Mike’s eyes.

Mike couldn’t hold it any longer. “You! Fucking you! You’re the single most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my life. When I first saw you, I wanted to have you. Then you kicked my ass. Now you’re here and I don’t know what to say or do.” Hot tears moistened his cheeks and his chest constricted with such pain as he had never experienced before. He got up from the couch and started pacing back and forth in the room. He struck a pillar with his fist each time he passed it, hoping that the real physical pain would quell the anguish he was feeling within.

Rowan was looking at the distressed young man with compassion. It was clear that Mike desperately longed for someone to connect with, but his fear of ridicule and rejection overrode that by a margin. But Rowan had a debt to discharge. Even if he himself couldn’t be there for Mike, the least he could do was to show him that at least some of his fears were magnified out of proportion. He stood up from the couch.

“Let’s go,” he said to the still pacing Mike and drew the glamour back upon himself.

“What, where?” Mike asked, stopping in his tracks.

“Outside. I’ll show you something.”

Mike’s heart was beating very fast as he followed Rowan up the stairs to the door leading back to the school proper. The dark jeans Rowan was wearing hugged the right places just about perfectly.

The bell had just rung to signal the end of the last classes for the day, and the corridors were full of students as they made their way to the doors leading to the quad. Mike’s courage almost faltered as they approached a group of guys from the football team who were standing near the doors. A few of them had caught Mike’s eye before, and he felt like he was walking totally naked in plain view.

As they passed the team, their leader whispered loud enough for them and the whole group to hear. “Look, it’s the cleaning lady and his new boy-toy. He’s gonna blow him behind the school. Think he’ll let me have him when he’s done?” Most in the group laughed sycophantically but Rowan noticed a few who stayed quiet, one of them looking especially embarrassed. He had also felt Mike tense as the group first came into view.

Outside, Rowan noticed Willow and Oz sitting at a table nearby. He made a beeline for the couple with Mike following him hesitantly.

“Hi, Rowan,” Willow greeted him brightly.

“’Sup, bro?” Oz nodded at him companionably.

“This is Mike,” Rowan explained, sitting down. “He’s the one who lent me the overalls and gave me his phone number.”

“Oh, so you’re the one with the crush?” Willow grinned at the suddenly very red young man.

“Gah,” was the only sound Mike could make as he gaped at both Rowan and Willow in turn.

Out of the corner of his eye Rowan noticed that the football team had also exited the school and the leader was obviously looking for a sign of him and Mike. Then, surprising everyone at the table, he stepped up on it and drew a confused Mike after him.

“What are you doing?” Mike hissed but allowed himself to be pulled up on the table with Rowan.

“Paying my debt.”

Rowan looked around and saw that they had the attention of almost everyone in the yard. He turned to face Mike. “Remember. Those who care, don’t matter; and those who matter, don’t care.” With that he leaned in and kissed Mike full on the lips.

Mike couldn’t breathe. He was sure that the world and time had stopped around them, just between two heart-beats. Then, all too sudden, the perfect moment ended, and they stepped apart. There was a distant shout of “Fucking faggots,” but to Mike’s ear it surprisingly lacked the usual bite.

Then, to Mike’s utter surprise, there were a few wolf-whistles and even a few applauses from somewhere around them. He couldn’t avoid the huge grin that was forcing its way on his face as he dropped to sit on the table. Rowan was still standing beside him looking around the gathered audience. He locked his eyes briefly with the leader of the football gang but he just turned and stormed away, drawing the rest of the team with him. Rowan noticed that the same guy who had looked embarrassed before followed his teammates somewhat hesitantly. He also kept throwing surreptitious glances in his and Mike’s direction as he walked away.

Oz was the first to react after Rowan had also sat down again. “Cool,” he commented in his usual laconic way.

Rowan gave him a wink and looked curiously at Willow. “Whistles and claps? An aural illusion?”

“To show my support,” Willow said blushing, and Rowan wondered briefly if there was something deeper behind the words. He turned his attention back to Mike who was still sitting on the table, staring straight ahead.

“Are you ok?” Rowan asked quietly.

Mike let out a dry laugh. “You’re unbe-fucking-lievable, you know. Now everyone knows...”

“Yes,” Rowan interrupted him. “And some of them looked quite jealous, from what I could see.”

“What?” Mike couldn’t quite believe his ears.

“Just that it wasn’t only girls who looked like they would have gladly taken my place... or yours.”

“Probably mine,” Mike muttered.

“Don’t belittle yourself,” Rowan said, nudging Mike’s shoulder with his fist. “The forbidden fruit is always the sweetest.”

Mike gave a sigh. “So, was this it?”

“Not quite,” Rowan said, standing up. “I think I owe you another one; this time without the glamour, with _me_. After that, well, I’ll be around but mostly behind the scenery. I’ll come and check on you from time to time. Even with my debt discharged, I won’t forget that you were the first one to help me in this time and place.”

“Rowan, I... I...,” Mike whispered. “I... kinda love you.”

“I know,” Rowan said gently and held out his hand to Mike. “I’m glad.”

“Just tell me. Do you have... someone?”

“Yes.”


	13. Chapter 13

Cordelia was sitting alone in the corner booth of the Espresso Pump reading the latest edition of Vogue. The new Watcher was keeping Faith so busy these days that the brunette Slayer rarely had time to meet her even occasionally outside the Scooby action. But Cordelia was a creature of habit and nothing, short of the Hellmouth suddenly bursting wide open, would stop her from sitting down for a nice cup of afternoon coffee – company or no company.

As if her thoughts had been a summoning spell, she suddenly glimpsed someone who was definitely not the brunette Slayer slide into the booth opposite her. Lifting her head angrily from her reading, she saw an unfamiliar guy, a college one by the look of him, looking back at her with an uncommonly neutral look on his face.

“Oh, please!” she rolled her eyes. “Take a hint and beat it, buster.”

To her surprise the guy smiled at her broadly. “We met in the library the other day, Cordelia, when you came to pick up Xander for some hidden pleasure.”

Cordelia was struck speechless. She vaguely remembered a pretty-faced boy talking with Giles and Xander but her then... urgency had left the whole encounter kind of abstract.

“Are you shitting me?” she asked after a while in disbelief and looked around the mostly empty coffee house. “Xander Harris, if this is your idea of a joke, I’m most definitely not laughing.”

Rowan looked around the shop himself. Besides them the place as practically empty, and they were mostly hidden from view.

“Maybe we can change that,” Rowan said. “I’ve been staying _incognito_ in public since I came here, which I guess you can understand if Xander has told you even a fraction of what I told the Slayers and Scoobies that evening in the library.”

Having said that, he dropped his glamour.

They stayed like that, almost immobile, for a long time just facing each other across the table. Eventually both could see subtle twitches in the corners of each other’s mouth. Cordelia was the first to crack.

“Nope, still not laughing, Doll-face.”

Rowan gave her a wide grin. “After you and Xander left, I told Rupert I liked you. You sort of remind me of...”

His musing was cut short when the waitress came to their table for a refill for Cordelia. The waitress’ eyes widened in amazement and she was just opening her mouth when Rowan cut her off.

“College theatre. We are rehearsing ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. I’m playing Puck and like to stay in character during breaks. I get this all the time.”

“Oh, ok,” the waitress said breathlessly. “Your make-up artist deserves an Oscar.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her that,” Rowan nodded.

“You’re pretty quick,” Cordelia said after the waitress had left, giving a few not so inconspicuous glances over her shoulder as she went. She took a few sips from her refilled cup. “Don’t take this as a dismissal, but why did you come in here to meet me?”

“I was on my way to check the local _dojo_ ,” Rowan explained. “I saw you sitting here and, since you weren’t there in the library when I introduced myself to the other Scoobies, took the opportunity to do so now.”

“Look, I’m flattered, but you’re really not my type,” Cordelia said sincerely and continued with a hint of sarcasm. “Welcome to the Scooby hang-around club and all. Your complimentary start-up package will be delivered to you in due course.”

“Who said anything about type?” Rowan asked with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not hitting on you.”

Despite her earlier words, Cordelia was taken aback. “Why not?” she asked in mixed surprise and annoyance. To her surprise Rowan laughed out loud. The sound was so openly merry that Cordelia couldn’t help but laugh herself.

“I really like you, Cordelia, but let’s just say that you lack a certain... spirit. Friends?”

“Friends,” Cordelia said and shook the outheld hand. The she grinned impishly. “Doll-face.”

* * *

“You did what?” Buffy and Faith asked incredulously as they were walking towards the Shady Hill cemetery.

“I enrolled myself in a jujutsu class,” Rowan repeated evenly and repositioned the duffel bag containing their tools for tonight on his shoulder.

“But why?” Buffy continued. “It’s not that you don’t know martial arts.”

“I just thought it would be a good idea to get formal training here,” Rowan explained. “Who knows, maybe I’ll take to teaching it, once I get a diploma. I’ll be needing some income eventually. Rupert’s generosity will last only so far.”

Faith was secretly impressed by Rowan’s dedication. She herself got a small allowance from Gwen who was on the payroll of the Council. Giles made do with his salary from the City, and since Buffy was still living at home, there was no extra allowance for her from the Council.

“But you could probably beat all of them, including the instructor,” Buffy said in bafflement.

“That’s not the point, Buffy,” Rowan explained. “Going back to the basics is. A new start.”

Buffy was mulling all this in her mind. Everything she knew about martial arts was from her Watchers, Merrick and Giles, neither of whom was (or in Merrick’s case, had been) an expert. She knew she was good, Faith as well, with their Slayer reflexes and strength and all. But what they did was... undisciplined, raw, wild. She trained and sparred with Faith on an almost daily basis, but she felt that neither Giles nor Gwen were able to really teach them the required discipline. The closest she had come to that were the _t’ai chi_ sessions with Angel before...

“I actually asked Xander to join me,” Rowan continued.

“Really? Why?” Buffy asked in astonishment.

“Well, to put it bluntly, he doesn’t have any special physical skills. He may have retained a military mindset, but that doesn’t reflect to his strength, reflexes or hand-to-hand fighting skills. Willow, for example, will soon, well, surpass him as her magical powers grow. I wanted to see him get something extra to boost his self-confidence. Anyway, he declined the offer. He said he’d just feel awkward around us and most likely be overconfident in his skills in a real fight. He’d rather not give himself any false hope.”

“That... that was very considerate of you,” Buffy said quietly. She had never actually given any thoughts to the long-term goals for the Scoobies due to her own predictably short life-expectancy. She knew that Slayers, once Called, had an average life-expectancy of maybe three to five years. She had already died once in the line of duty, and with an Apocalypse on the horizon on a yearly basis, a five-year plan was not something that she spent too much time on drafting.

“Okay, we’re here,” Faith announced at the cemetery gates. “Axes first?”

“Might as well,” Buffy said, surveying the grounds. “Squire?” she requested with fake superiority.

Rowan chuckled in amusement. “Yes, m’lady.”

“An axe for myself and the Lady Lehane.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

Rowan sat cross-legged on a large tombstone while the Slayers were sweeping the grounds. He took a dagger out of the duffel bag lying next to him and started absent-mindedly twirling it around his fingers.

_“How do you allow for the drifting?”_

_“Nothing is really at rest anywhere in the Multi-dimensions,” Aryane explained. “There’s the infinitesimal, yet infinite, divide between them and the Seals will oscillate back and forth across that divide. They will re-position themselves with each transition. The Sylph will see to it that they are properly attuned.”_

_“And the attraction and repulsion?”_

_“In balance, thanks to Spirit dominating.”_

_“Speaking of dominating...”_

Rowan’s reminiscence was interrupted by a soft hiss. A female vampire in a smart business suit was approaching him. She was not a fledgling but still quite recently risen.

“My, you’re a handsome one,” the vampire purred as she came to stand in front of him. “How would you like to stay young and beautiful, forever?”

Rowan almost rolled his eyes. ‘ _Here we go..._ ’

“It has a certain attraction, I must say,” Rowan answered evenly. “Seeing that you only got two out of three.”

The vampire looked baffled until the moment her head parted from her shoulders. Faith was standing behind the slowly falling dust cloud, the axe in her hand coming to a rest after its deadly arc.

“Thanks,” Rowan said with a sigh, putting the knife in his hand back to the bag. “You heard?”

“Yeah,” Faith said with a chuckle. “I got the ‘once you have tasted Slayer blood’ speech.”

“So, the score is 1-1.”

“Make it 2-1 for the ‘Slayer blood’ team,” Buffy announced, emerging from behind a large tomb.

“You too?” Rowan asked with mock dejection.

“Sorry.”

* * *

Next up was the Rosemount cemetery where swords were the tool of choice. Almost immediately they encountered a group of six vampires and the Slayers leapt into action.

“I’m so gonna need to take care of the hornies after this!” Faith yelled over her shoulder as she and Buffy where fighting back-to-back.

“I’m gonna need a magnum pack of yogurt!” Buffy yelled back.

“You still gonna stick to that lame excuse?”

“I’ve told you so many times I don’t get the...”

“You’re such a liar, girlfriend.”

“And how are you gonna do... whatever it is you’re gonna do with Gwen just a door away?”

“Maybe she would actually loosen up if she opened the door when I’m taking care of the hornies. She might even learn something.”

“Ewww, gross!”

“Do you think the Bitcher has ever been properly fucked?”

“Not likely. A vampire would feel cold inside that woman,” Buffy suddenly heard herself saying.

“There’s my girl!” Faith grinned.

Rowan was watching and listening the two girls’ interaction with both curiosity and amusement. They had clearly forgotten both his presence and, at least in Buffy’s case, some of their usual inhibitions as they were in the middle of what they did best. The girls were down to two vampires each when Rowan’s keen ears picked up a distant growl. It was not a vampiric sound, so he decided to go take a look himself. He gave the fighting Slayers one more look and took the remaining spare sword and its scabbard from the duffel bag. Tightening the scabbard around his waist, he headed towards the sound.

Coming around a group of trees, Rowan spotted a Fhragl demon gnawing on a human arm beside a freshly opened grave. He didn’t slow his advance; Fhragl were scum and should be treated as such. He was maybe 20 yards away when the Fhragl noticed him. It threw the arm back into the grave and started slouching towards him with a predatory growl, its long claws fully prominent. When they were about five yards apart, Rowan brought his hand slowly to the hilt of the sword. The blade was unfamiliar to him in combat, but he had handled it while polishing it, becoming fairly familiar with its weight and balance. He would still dearly like to get his hands on a familiar curved sword but coming up with $10,000 would take some time. Anything sub-standard was out of the question in the long term.

Two yards apart and the blade left the scabbard, whispered through the air and returned back to the scabbard in a single fluid motion. The Fhragl slumbered a few more steps past him until it collapsed to the ground, its head rolling a few yards farther.

Without a backward glance, Rowan went to check the grave the Fhragl had opened. It belonged to a recently died young girl whose coffin the Fhragl had savagely smashed open and then ripped the corpse’s arm away from the body. Noticing a shovel nearby, Rowan did his best to cover the grave with fresh earth. It wasn’t the first time he had cleaned up after a Fhragl.

* * *

The four remaining vampires were dealt with quickly by the two Slayers. Looking around they realized they were alone at the scene; only the duffel bag was lying on the nearby stone bench. Before they heard anything, their Slayer sense indicated that there was a new demon nearby. Rushing towards the source of the buzz with swords in hand, they stopped just beyond the small group of trees. They saw the scene in front of them clearly. An ugly 7’ tall demon with long claws was advancing on Rowan who was calmly walking forward to meet it.

“Shit,” Buffy cursed, realizing they were too late to help.

They almost missed the actual strike, but they couldn’t miss the aftermath; the two passing each other, the demon falling to the ground, the head rolling away and, finally, Rowan standing beside the grave with the shovel in his hands.

Faith took a step forward when she saw Rowan standing still by the grave but Buffy’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. Faith looked at her sister Slayer with a raised eyebrow. Buffy shook her head and turned away. Understanding, Faith followed her.

* * *

None of them said anything as they made their way to their final destination of the night, the Wilkinson Memorial cemetery. Giles and Gwen were waiting for them at the gates, as had been agreed before the Slayers and their “squire” headed out earlier that evening.

“Everything alright?” Giles asked when he saw that the trio was looking sombre, and that the Slayers were somewhat subdued in their usual banter.

“Five by five, G,” Faith muttered.

“Actually, it’s still two to one,” Buffy said, attempting to lighten up the mood.

“Come again?” Giles asked, re-adjusting his glasses.

“Oh, we’ve been keeping score between the ‘young and beautiful forever’ and the ‘once you’ve tasted Slayer blood’ speeches the vampires have given us tonight,” Rowan said switching the heavy duffel bag on his other shoulder.

“I see,” Giles said trying to keep from laughing out loud. His mirth was short-lived as Gwen cleared her throat rather louder than necessary.

“I expect you to hand in a full report of your activities and your self-evaluation of your axe and sword performance by 6 pm tomorrow,” Gwen told the Slayers. “You will demonstrate your skills with said weapons two nights hence to Rupert and myself, and we will be comparing your performance against your written evaluation.” She waited for both girls to nod until she continued.

“We will be testing your close-in support and co-ordination skills here tonight,” Gwen continued. She took a six-feet long piece of rope from her bag and handed it to the Slayers. “Hold the ends of this rope in your left hand, wrap it a few times around the wrist and then hold it again. You will patrol this cemetery tied to each other in close proximity. Only let loose of the rope in a real emergency. Stakes only. Understood? Go.”

Giles and Rowan followed the two Slayers and Gwen from a distance, watching as the girls tried to adjust to being connected to each other by a short leash.

“How was it?” Giles asked quietly after a few minutes.

“Horrible,” Rowan deadpanned and smirked at the Watcher’s surprised look. “I got the ‘young and beautiful forever’ speech.”

They walked again in silence. Rowan could see that the Watcher’s brow was furrowed; a sign of deep thinking. “What?” he asked, not looking in Giles’ direction.

Giles’ mouth turned to a smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You said that evening at the library that your people are ‘long-lived’. I should have realized sooner what that implied, with you being of the same substance as the Old Ones. I suspect the vampire’s comment wasn’t too much off the mark.”

When Rowan hadn’t reacted for a few minutes, Giles decided to change the subject. “How did Buffy and Faith do?”

This time Rowan answered after a few seconds. “Buffy needs an axe with the handle maybe one-and-a-half inches shorter than the ones we have, and Faith needs a heavier sword with the balance point closer to the tip.”

Giles let out a small laugh and handed Rowan a piece of paper. Having read the words on the paper, Rowan started laughing himself. The words Giles had written on the paper before they had left for the patrol were more or less identical to the analysis Rowan had just given about the suitability of their axes and swords for the two Slayers.

“Anything else?” Giles prompted.

Rowan was quiet for a few moments. “It’s... fascinating how they tune out the outside world when they are Slaying together; also, they unconsciously drop some of their inner walls and inhibitions. I heard them discuss things they would probably deny if we were to prompt them afterwards. I guess it’s a form of “what happens in the field, stays in the field”.”

“You got that impression too?”

“I guess that whatever the future brings us, we are all very lucky to have those two working so closely together.”

“I heartily agree,” Giles nodded. “I was initially a bit worried about Faith, but she has really come through lately.”

‘ _Well, she is_ the _Slayer_ ,’ Rowan thought to himself. _‘She is the current representative of the intact Slayer line. In all likelihood, The Hegemon’s words pertain to her. I wonder if she realized that when she challenged me in the library regarding the potential prophecy._ Phew _, I really have a knack for associating myself with temperamental female characters.’_


	14. Chapter 14

“1430! Buffy, you kicked ass,” Willow shouted out in amazement. “This could change like your whole future.”

“Yeah, my future,” Buffy muttered with her eyes downcast.

“Whoa, why the sour puss?” Xander frowned.

“I don’t know,” Buffy said hesitantly. “I guess... my future... I never thought about it. I wasn’t even sure I was gonna have one.”

“I think this is great!” Cordelia said brightly. “Now you can leave... and never come back.”

Everyone turned to the cheerleader wearing looks of annoyance on their face.

“I mean it in a positive way,” Cordelia back-pedalled. “Get out of Sunnydale. That’s a good thing. I mean... what kind of moron would want to come back here?”

* * *

Maybe the Powers do have a sense of irony, but mere hours after Cordelia’s final comment a black DeSoto Fireflite 1959 with blacked-out windows crashed through the “Welcome to Sunnydale” sign for the second time in as many years. This time around, though, the driver’s exit from said vehicle was less than heroic. An empty bottle smashing on the ground was followed by a bleach-haired young man who fell out of the car backwards.

“Home... sweet... home,” Spike giggled before passing out on the asphalt.

* * *

“It’s so quiet... and boring,” Buffy said, leaning her cheek on her crossed arms lying on the large study table.

“Yes, well, with Faith and Gwen in L.A. this place does indeed feel very library-like,” Giles said and closed his suitcase. “I’ll be back on Sunday evening. And if you could check this place tomorrow after school?”

“Have fun in Monterey. I’ll come here tomorrow to do some exercising and hold down the fort while everyone’s having fun.”

“You could still join their double bowling date, Buffy. I don’t think anyone would mind,” Giles said and lowered the trolley to the floor.

“Is Rowan back yet?” Buffy asked, feigning indifference.

“No, I think he said he’d be back tomorrow evening.”

Giles shook his head at the recollection of Rowan telling him the day before that he would be spending a few days and nights in the woods “to get to know the lay of the land” as he put it. Giles had instinctively been about to object to the idea when it struck him that Rowan must have spent more time in the wilderness than the rest of them combined, several times over, let alone in conditions much harsher than the Breaker’s Woods in early December. Remembering that Rowan had taken only a hunting knife and sleeping bag with him, Giles smiled fondly and chuckled at the recollection. He remembered the last time he had gone on a retreat. The library table had been completely covered by his equipment.

_“No matches?” Giles asked._

_Rowan just winked and held out his open hand. A flame appeared on his palm._

_“No matches,” he said and closed his fist around it._

“So, he wants to know his way around Sunnydale?” Buffy asked with a slight pang of disappointment and stretched her arms. She could have dropped by Giles’ to see if Rowan was ok. Naturally just so that she would have a plausible reason for delaying her arrival home. She was trying her best to prolong the inevitable moment when she would have to go home where she knew her mom would like to have a serious college talk.

Giles smiled at her question. “’If you know the enemy and know yourself, your victory will not stand in doubt; if you know Heaven and know Earth, you may make your victory complete.’”

“What?”

“’The Art of War’ by Sun Tzu.” Giles had tried to get Buffy to read the annotated version of the book, which was basically Council-mandated reading for Slayers. But, judging by her blank stare, she obviously still hadn’t. He sighed. “He was the Chinese general and military strategist who lived around 500 BCE I told you about. He was also a philosopher.”

Buffy barked a laugh. “Rowan thinks of the Hellmouth as an actual battlefield?”

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised, knowing his background. Well, anyway, shall we go? I’ll drive you home.”

Buffy sighed in surrender and followed Giles out of the library.

* * *

It was Friday evening, the next day, and Spike was feeling marginally better. Having seen the little Witch buy the components for a love spell had given him a much better idea than just flat-out cursing Drusilla. He had waited outside her home in his car and later followed her to Sunnydale High. He had quietly walked through the empty corridors towards the only classroom that seemed occupied. Now, he heard a boy’s voice inside the room say, “I’ll get the lights. Clean up this place before they get here and start asking questions.”

Xander had just flipped on the classroom lights when he was taken into a death grip from behind. “I need to borrow the little girl. You don’t mind, do you?” a growling voice said close to his ear as he struggled to free himself. Acting on instinct he raised his feet against the wall and pushed with all his might. He felt the grip loosen as his assailant hit the wall behind them. He had barely time to turn around to face the attacker when a left hook in his jaw dropped him to the floor.

Willow had recognized Spike immediately. She grabbed a heavy statuette from the teacher’s desk when she saw the vampire hit Xander. But before she could connect it with Spike’s head, the vampire had her wrists in vice-like grips.

“Threatening me? That’s not nice. We’re all going to be very best friends,” Spike said almost jovially and took the statuette effortlessly from her. Too quickly for either Willow or Xander to react, the vampire spun around and slammed the statuette against Xander’s temple; the boy having tried to sneak up on Spike while the vampire was struggling with Willow.

“Xander!” Willow cried in alarm as Xander fell to the classroom floor in a boneless heap.

* * *

Buffy was skipping rope in the quiet library when Oz and Cordelia stormed in. “Oh good, you _are_ here,” Cordelia said breathlessly.

“Yeah. Not all of us have dates tonight,” Buffy replied, somewhat annoyed. “What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you have already left with Willow and Xander?”

“Something’s up,” Oz interrupted, getting straight into business.

There were signs of struggle in the chemistry class; broken glassware and overturned chairs.

“We were supposed to meet in here. I don’t know what could have happened,” Cordelia said when they entered the room. On the first-row desk several overturned glass beakers and a tripod caught their attention.

“What is all this stuff?” Buffy asked no one in particular. “I’m thinking _Weird Science_.”

“Was Willow messing with her magic tricks again?” Cordelia said looking at Oz. “Maybe they disappeared, or she turned Xander to something... ishy.”

“Whatever happened, there was obviously a fight,” Buffy reminded her, pointing at the evidence on the desk.

“I don’t see or smell any blood,” Oz said looking around and sniffing.

“Yeah, either they were taken, or they ran, or...,” Buffy started.

“You’re having too many or’s. Pick one,” Cordelia interrupted her.

“I don’t know!” Buffy yelled. “I need you to get...,” ‘ _Who exactly?_ ’ She tried to think. “Faith and Gwen are in L.A., Giles in Monterey and Rowan is First Blooding somewhere in Breaker’s Woods.” She was doing a really fine job of holding down the fort.

“The clearing in Breaker’s Woods is not that far,” Oz reminded her. “The others are definite no-goes.”

“You’ll never find him in there,” Buffy reminded him.

“True, but I’m pretty sure he’ll find us,” Oz said with a hint of admiration.

“So, motor. I’m gonna look for them. Maybe they didn’t get too far.”

She was just about to open the metal cage in the library when the phone on the desk rang. She rushed to pick it up. “Giles?”

“ _Hi, Buffy! Still working out?_ ” Joyce’s cheerful voice said on the line.

Buffy closed her eyes and squeezed the receiver until she heard the plastic creak. Talk about bad timing. “No, Mom. Actually...”

“ _I was hoping that we could schedule another college talk later tonight. I admit I over-reacted yesterday. You don’t have to go all the way across the country. I picked up some brochures from some nearby schools today. Okay?_ ”

“That’s great, Mom,” Buffy said with fake enthusiasm. “Now’s really not...”

“ _Hello, Joyce,_ ” a clipped male voice on the phone interrupted her, making her blood run cold. She dropped the receiver and rushed out of the library.

* * *

Buffy ran all the way home using her Slayer speed with her heart hammering inside her chest. Getting to the back door, she saw Joyce and Spike sitting at the kitchen island, apparently talking jovially. She stormed through the open door and practically threw herself at Spike. They fell to the kitchen floor in a heap with her mom’s surprised scream in her ears.

“Buffy, what are you doing!” Joyce yelled and tried to pull Buffy away from Spike. Suddenly Buffy was in Joyce’s arms when Spike pushed her away from him.

Buffy struggled away from her mom. “Spike! Get away from here or I swear I’ll stake you right now.”

“Oh, yeah? You and what army?” Spike asked sarcastically as he was getting back to his feet. He saw that the Slayer was empty-handed.

Buffy’s eyes landed briefly on the wooden spoon on the counter. Then she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“William the Bloody,” the voice said.

Buffy turned around in a flash feeling a wave of relief. Rowan was standing in the doorway leaning casually against the frame. He was wearing his glamour. “Did Oz and Cordelia...?” she started.

“No. I saw you running here at full pelt and followed. So, this must be your home. Mrs Summers,” he nodded politely to Buffy’s mother when she had taken her time to face him.

“Buffy, who...?” Joyce asked in confusion.

Spike snorted. “You’re way over your head here, boy. Get out while you still have all your limbs attached.”

“Mrs Summers, you might want to go upstairs while we have a discussion with William here,” Rowan said to Joyce not even looking in Spike’s direction.

Joyce looked at her daughter in confusion not understanding anything.

“It’s ok, Mom. Please,” Buffy said putting her hand on Joyce’s arm. Joyce gave her a last penetrating look and walked past Spike to the stairway.

Spike was getting really annoyed at being treated as if he wasn’t even there. With a clearer head he might have wondered how the unfamiliar boy knew his name. “Look, I admire your bravado, kid,” he said to the newcomer who was still apparently totally at ease. “This is your last chance.”

Rowan was listening to Buffy’s mother’s steps recede. Finally, a door opened and closed on the second floor. Then he turned his attention to the vampire. “No, William. More like a first chance,” he said and dropped his glamour.

* * *

Spike, the killer of two Slayers, felt his cold blood turn to ice when the one he had dismissed as a human boy rippled briefly. Suddenly, large amber eyes were looking back at him from a decidedly non-human face. The stakes of the game had all of a sudden upped to a level where he wasn’t sure his chips would be enough anymore. He barely reacted when Buffy pushed him on top of the island and had her hand around his throat.

“You shouldn’t have come back, Spike,” Buffy said, shaking her head.

“I do what I please,” Spike said, trying to sound confident. He was still in the process of regaining his composure when the amber-eyed _someone_ came to stand beside the Slayer who was currently threatening to crush his windpipe. That flawless face and the faintly glowing eyes stirred something deep inside him, an ancient and nameless dread.

“Rowan, meet Spike. Spike, Rowan,” Buffy offered a quick introduction and grabbed the wooden spoon raising it over Spike’s chest.

“Willow!” Spike blurted out, hating himself for having to resort to pleading.

“You took Willow,” Buffy stated. It wasn’t a question.

“You do me now and you’ll never find the little Witch.”

“And Xander?”

“Him too.”

“Where are they?” Rowan asked mildly.

“Like I’m gonna tell _you_ ,” Spike spat out trying to remain brave. “It doesn’t work like that.” He turned back to Buffy. “Your Witch friend is gonna work some magic for me. When she does my spell, I’ll let them both go.”

Buffy snorted. “You may be famous in some circles but not for keeping your promises, Spike.”

“I’m the only one who knows where your friends are, Slayer. You get in my way, and _you_ kill your friends.”

Spike stiffened involuntarily when the one called Rowan dragged him to his feet by the lapels of his duster. Rowan’s lips came to within an inch of his ear whispering something in a language Spike could _almost_ understand.

“Who are you?” he whispered back. He couldn’t really explain it, but it felt almost like whispering in a lover’s ear.


	15. Chapter 15

The door of the magic shop yielded easily to Buffy’s Slayer strength. “Your work?” she asked Spike, tearing away the police tape.

Spike avoided the question. “Here’s a list,” he said, handing over the list of ingredients Willow had written him. Buffy snatched it away.

“Essence of violet, cloves. Rowan?”

“Got it,” Rowan answered and went to check the shelves behind the counter.

“A set of runic tablets. Spike can get the rat’s eyes.”

“I used to bring rats to Dru,” Spike recalled wistfully. “With the morning paper.”

“Great! More moping is just what we need here,” Buffy said in disgust having had to listen to Spike’s “nostalgic” reminisces of his and Drusilla’s last visit to Sunnydale at various spots during their trip to the magic shop. She shook a jar half-full of runestones. “That’s gonna get her back.”

“The spell’s gonna get her back,” Spike retorted angrily.

“Then what?” Rowan asked without turning his eyes away from the shelves.

“What?” Spike asked, turning around with a whirl of his duster.

“I think you heard me. You do a love spell, get her back. Then what? Are you going to keep her under repeated enchantments for eternity? Knowing it’s not _her_? Knowing that if you slip only for a moment, forget to renew the thrall, she’ll turn on you.”

Hearing his deepest fears said aloud so casually made Spike lose his composure. “Shut! Up!” he yelled and wildly charged Rowan. He attempted a wild haymaker and, to his surprise, hit only thin air. The next moment his wrist was in Rowan’s tight grip and the Slayer’s strong hand grabbed his shoulder from behind and threw him backwards.

“What do you know!?” Spike screamed at Rowan. “You don’t even belong here. And you!” he turned to Buffy. “This is all your and that great ponce’s fault. She belongs with me,” he said with his shoulders drooping. “I’m nothing without her,” he admitted lowering his gaze to the floor.

Buffy snorted, finding no sympathy for the forlorn devil. “This may be a first, but I totally agree with you. You’re pathetic. You’re not even a loser anymore. You’re the shell of a loser.”

Feeling the verbal knives slice at his non-beating heart, Spike abandoned all caution. Nothing mattered anymore. “Yeah? You’re one to talk,” he said with forced cockiness and walked past Buffy and Rowan.

“Meaning?” Buffy asked and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Look at you, Slayer,” Spike mocked. “You sent Angel to hell and now you’re making doe eyes to pretty boy here like nothing happened. Makes me want to heave, again.”

Buffy felt her cheeks redden. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said with a scoff, hoping her voice didn’t tremble.

“Oh, yeah. You’re ‘just friends’, right? With pretty boy here practically dripping with...”

“Yes!” Buffy yelled but went silent when Rowan casually answered, “No.”

Both Buffy and Spike turned to face Rowan with identical looks of astonishment.

“I know what you’re doing, Spike. You have this great emptiness inside and you’re trying to fill it with more emptiness. There will never be enough of it, trust me. You say you want Drusilla back, but what are you willing to sacrifice to achieve it? I trust Buffy with my life and I’m proud to call her more than a friend. You can mock as much as you want – it will amount to nothing. You say Buffy’s feelings are something to be ashamed of but that’s just your own emptiness echoing back. For me her feelings are a source of strength, not something to keep hidden.”

Spike let out a dry laugh. “I may be love’s bitch, but at least I’m man enough to admit it.”

“Are you?” Rowan asked with a challenging smirk and stepped in front of Spike to look at him eye to eye. Spike took an involuntary step back from that penetrating gaze. Before Spike could take another step, Rowan grabbed the lapels of his duster, drew the vampire against him and planted a deep kiss on his lips. He released the unresisting Spike after a few seconds. “When you see your Drusilla, remember this,” Rowan said and pushed the vampire away. Spike backed away with his eyes like saucers until his back hit the shelves making the glass jars tingle.

Buffy looked at Rowan from the corner of her eye with an unreadable expression. She had wanted to slay Spike earlier but not anymore. What Rowan had just done was so much more subtle but no less lethal. It had also required more courage than she possessed.

“Eye of rat,” Spike said in a faraway voice from behind Buffy.

* * *

“Ok, we got the stuff,” Buffy said impatiently once they were out of the shop. “Where are they?”

“What’s your hurry, Slayer?” Spike drawled.

“My hurry is my intense desire to get you out of my life. You tend to cause trouble.”

“I’ll be out of your lives in a few short hours, you know. No trouble.” He looked over his shoulder at Rowan who was catching up on them after having stayed behind to wedge the magic shop door closed. “No trouble at all.”

“We’re being watched,” Rowan said quietly in Buffy’s ear once he had reached the two. Buffy startled at his words and allowed her annoyance at Spike to take back seat. Then she could feel it. Vampires, lots of them. “They have us surrounded,” she said, slowing down her step.

“Yes, let’s move on,” Rowan said.

They had advanced only a few steps when a vampire walked out of a nearby building’s gateway.

“Hello, Spike,” the vampire said jovially. Suddenly there were eleven other vampires around them, some having emerged from behind parked cars and some having jumped over fences.

“No trouble at all,” Buffy said sarcastically.

“Lenny! How have you been,” Spike said with fake cheerfulness.

“Better, since you left. You should have stayed gone.”

“Is that right?” Spike stated flatly and threw his bag of supplies to the ground.

“You know, he was just leaving,” Buffy said, stepping forward to defuse the situation. “Don’t you start anything,” she hissed at Spike.

“This pissant used to work for me,” Spike said, pointing at Lenny.

“Slayer!” Lenny spat out. “That’s low, even for you, Spike. Being chums with a Slayer and a...” he turned to Rowan, “... fuck,” he managed to blurt out weakly.

Buffy turned to Rowan. “The guys are in trouble. We can’t risk this.”

“Did he just call me a ‘fuck’?” Rowan asked Buffy incredulously.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said to Spike?” Buffy groaned and almost threw her hands in the air. “Don’t you dare...”

“You two... you can just walk away,” Lenny offered and stepped aside.

“I die, your chums die,” Spike stated in a monotone before Lenny had even finished.

“Sorry,” Buffy smiled apologetically. “Looks like we’re staying.”

“Not for long,” Lenny growled and gave his gang a sign.

Even before his hand was fully raised, Buffy and Rowan had sprung into action. Taking a surprised look at the vacant spot beside him, Spike joined the fight.

Engaging the two vamps in front of her, Buffy briefly glanced around her and saw that Rowan had positioned himself so that he had her back covered. Grinning, Buffy gave her full attention to her two current opponents.

This was the first serious fight Rowan had been a participant in since his return to the world. Focusing his mind, he let go of everything of secondary importance. Time seemed to slow down, and he became more aware of his immediate surroundings. Having struck down one opponent, he was subconsciously aware of how long it would take for him be a threat again. He was also aware of Buffy, her position behind him and her practiced and effective attacks on her opponents.

“This is a no-win without stakes!” Buffy shouted after a few minutes of intense hand-to-hand fighting. Slowly retreating towards the magic shop, Buffy and Rowan stayed on defence. Spike also was being pushed in their direction from where he had been fighting on his own. Soon they were all standing side-by-side with the vampires slowly closing in in a half-circle around them. “GO!” Buffy shouted, and as one they rushed through the door back inside the magic shop.

Once inside, no orders were needed. Buffy locked the door and Rowan and Spike dragged a large bookshelf to cover the window. Buffy broke a wooden chair and handed out its splintered legs to Spike and Rowan. Rowan took two and to Buffy’s surprise held them like tonfas against his forearms.

“This should be a kick,” Spike commented idly as they stood ready, facing the door and window.

Buffy took a deep breath. “I violently dislike you.”

There was a growl from behind them and a vampire appeared in the doorway leading to the storage area in the back.

“I got our back,” Rowan said simply and turned around. He blocked the vampire’s first attack with the chair leg held against his left forearm and heard the bones crack in his opponent’s knuckles. His right arm was already moving, and the splintered end of the chair leg struck the vampire in the chest. He walked over the pile of dust farther back where the growls of several more vampires could be heard.

“I really hate him,” Spike said through clenched teeth as he and Buffy watched the bookshelf shake and rattle.

“Oh, yeah?” Buffy said with a taunting smirk, unable to resist the temptation to turn the knife a little more.

“Shut your gob!” Spike almost screamed, not looking in the Slayer’s direction. “If you know what’s good for your little friends, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

Further conversation came to a halt as the bookshelf came crashing down and the vampires started pouring in. Grabbing her stake tighter in her fist, Buffy suddenly noticed the neat row of small holy water vials on the counter. “Spike!” she yelled and started lobbing the glass vials at the approaching vampires like Molotov cocktails. Several of the vampires turned tail and ran when the burning liquid barrage splashed on them but some managed to avoid it and got inside when the holy water supply ran out. They immediately attacked Buffy and Spike.

Spike was spun around by a hard punch to the side of his head that seemed to come out of nowhere. “Yeah, I heard you’d gone soft,” he heard Lenny’s mocking voice. “Sad to see it, man.” Those words felt like liquid nitrogen had been poured inside his spinal column. “Soft?” he replied evenly, tasting the word. “ _Soft!?_ ”

“Yeah, like baby food,” Lenny said contemptuously.

Spike slowly shifted his gaze from Lenny to the other vampire moving into position behind him and back to Lenny again, calculating. “Well, then. Let’s give the baby a taste,” he said and kicked the vampire behind him in the knee. His following left hook struck Lenny in the jaw which made the vampire stumble against the shelf behind him. Spike grabbed the vampire he had kicked by his jacket and threw him on the nearby round table and drove the stake he was holding in his back. Grabbing the still groggy Lenny, he started repeatedly pounding his head against the same table. “Baby like his supper?” he repeated each time Lenny’s head struck the table. “Why doesn’t baby have a nap?” he finally asked and, grabbing his stake with both hands, struck Lenny in the chest with all his strength. The old chair leg splintered but not before Lenny had turned to dust with a stupid look on his face. Behind him Spike could hear another vampire being dusted by Buffy.

After that there was a total silence in the magic shop. Buffy turned around when she heard Rowan come back to the store area. He was covered in vampire dust. “One tried to engage from above,” he said simply, brushing the dust away. She took an involuntary step towards him.

“Oh, yeah. ‘Just friends’,” Spike said mockingly. “But _that_ was fun.” Both Buffy and Rowan looked back at him with blank expressions on their face. “Oh, come on! Don’t tell me that wasn’t fun.” Spike let out a relieved laugh. “Blimey. It’s been so long since I had a decent spot of violence.” Then it was like a lightbulb had lit in his head. “All this really puts things in perspective,” he mused.

“Could we just do the damn spell now?” Buffy asked tiredly. “I’m not really in the mood for any heart-to-heart with you.”

“Oh, sod the damn spell,” Spike waved his hand dismissively. “Your friends are at the factory.” Not fazed by the cold stare the two gave him, he continued in a light voice. “I’m really glad I came here, you know. I’ve been all wrong-headed about this. Weepin’, crawlin’, blamin’ everybody else. I want Dru back – I’ve just got to be the man I was. The man she loved. I’ll do what I should have done in the first place. I’ll find her, wherever she is, tie her up, torture her, till she likes me again.”

With a new lightness in his step, he walked around Buffy and Rowan to the back door. “Love’s a funny thing,” he said from the doorway and was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

Buffy had never seen Faith so... giddy. The younger Slayer was practically skipping down the street on their way to buy a Christmas tree.

“I don’t think Faith has had too many family Holidays,” Joyce said, amused at Faith’s antics. “I’m so glad you asked her to spend the Christmas with us.”

“She never speaks about her life before Sunnydale,” Buffy said to her mother. “She just kinda... shuts down or changes the subject whenever I try to ask anything about her life in Boston.”

“Give her time, honey,” Joyce said gently, running her hand through her daughter’s blond hair. “Don’t push it. She’ll open up eventually. I see how close you two have become lately.”

“I think she really appreciates the invitation to have dinner with us twice a week,” Buffy said with a grin.

They had originally made an open invitation to Faith to have dinner with them every day but a compromise of twice a week had eventually been reached. Gwen had insisted that Faith eat dinner with her at least a few times each week despite the protests from the younger Slayer. Faith had also politely told them that she occasionally wanted to eat takeout just by herself.

Then, doing her best imitation of Faith’s dark, husky voice, Buffy said. “Hi, Mrs S. I’m Faith, the human garbage disposal. Whatever you throw my way is good enough for me, yunno.”

Joyce couldn’t help but laugh. “Be nice, dear,” she said and gave Buffy a one-armed hug. “I would have asked her to stay with us if that Watcher of hers hadn’t found a real apartment for her. At her age, she really shouldn’t have stayed in that awful motel a single day.”

“Faith likes her privacy,” Buffy said. “Being that her apartment is next to Gwen’s and that there is a door joining the two, I think she would have preferred the motel.”

“Don’t say that, sweetie. If she ever decides that family life is preferable to living basically alone, she is more that welcome to stay permanently with us.”

That was something Buffy had sometimes had fantasies about – about both Faith and Rowan. They had a spare guest room, which was currently filled with artworks from the gallery, and a spacious basement. In her fantasy both “newcomers” would have moved in with them – Faith in the spare room and Rowan in the basement. Then, one night…

_She wakes up hungry and decides to go downstairs for some late-night yogurt. Just as she opens the fridge, she hears some noises coming through the basement door. Opening the door quietly, she tiptoes down the stairs. First, she doesn’t see anything in the dimness of the basement, but then half-way down she hears a quiet moan and finally sees..._

“This is ground control to Major B,” Faith’s amused voice brought Buffy back to reality.

“Huh? Yes, so we are here as in we just got here,” Buffy babbled and flushed deep red. She saw perfect living-room-sized spruces all around her. “Yes. Christmas trees.”

“Wanna go check the back lot?” Faith asked quietly after Joyce had wandered away with one of the sellers. They both remembered what had been there just a little more than a month ago.

To their surprise the area near the hole through which they had mounted the rescue mission was littered with brown and skeletal trees. The hole in the ground itself was no longer there; Rowan had mended it a few days after the incident. Both girls were fairly sure that the dead patch was just above the location where the Reflection had manifested itself below.

“I don’t think I would have followed him down there, alone,” Buffy said quietly, standing by the spot where the hole had been.

Before Faith could answer, one of the sellers interrupted their moment. “Yeah, the trees just up and died in this particular spot,” he said and spat a brown gobble to the ground in front of him. “I can make a helluva deal to you for one of these.”

* * *

“Mom?” Buffy asked hesitantly after they had manhandled the tree through the door to their living room. She had waited for a moment alone with Joyce; Faith had excused herself to the bathroom.

“Yes, honey?” Joyce responded from the kitchen.

“Giles told me that Faith’s birthday was on the 14th. She never mentioned it.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Joyce said appearing in the kitchen doorway. “You should throw a party for her.”

“I was thinking just that, Mom,” Buffy said. “Would it be ok if I invited some friends here tomorrow? We could have the party in my room.”

“Buffy, I know when you’re _not_ saying something. You never speak of them as ‘some friends’. Who would you invite?”

Buffy grimaced inwardly. Her mom knew her too well for comfort. “Well, Faith, of course. Willow, Oz and Xander. Giles, Gwen and Rowan,” The last name she said in a rush.

“Rowan?” Joyce said like something foul had stuck in her mouth. “The boy who was so awful to Spike?”

“Yes, Mom,” Buffy said with a sigh. “It’s alright, though. It was a... misunderstanding. Spike and Rowan are good.”

“So, Willow and Oz are giving each other a second chance? And Oz and Xander are ok?” Joyce asked. She had heard the outline of what had happened between Willow and Xander at the factory.

“Seems so. Not so with Cordelia and Xander.”

“Maybe they just need more time. But this Rowan, Buffy,” Joyce said hesitantly. “The way you speak of him, he seems to really belong to your group, right? Yet, I’ve never really met him. There was just this one awkward encounter.”

“I can ask him to come before the others, ok?”

Joyce gave an amused chuckle. “You have never presented any of you boyfriends properly to me, you know.”

“Mom!” Buffy exclaimed indignantly. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just... part of the group.”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Joyce said with a grin and returned to the kitchen.

Buffy took a few deep breaths and then followed Joyce. She wanted to make sure there were no misconceptions surrounding their... relationship.

“Mom, look,” she said seriously. “He is not my boyfriend, really.” She took another deep breath. “Actually, he’s not even human.”

Joyce blinked a few times at her daughter’s revelation. “What are you saying, Buffy.”

Buffy sighed. “I don’t know what he really is; a demon, I guess. He was wearing a glamour, an illusion, when you saw him, making him look like a regular human.”

Joyce looked horrified.

“He’s not evil... I don’t think,” Buffy said with less conviction than she would have liked. “And he has really helped us a lot.”

“Why would he be hiding himself behind an illusion if he’s not evil? Is he... horribly disfigured or otherwise hideous?”

Buffy nearly choked. “No, Mom. Very much the opposite, really. But, please, can you keep an open mind when he gets here?”

“I’ll try, Buffy. I’m not going to lie and make any promises I might not be able to keep, but I’ll try.”

“Yay?” she said weakly. Maybe this party idea wasn’t the greatest after all. But for her sister Slayer’s sake, she would have to try.

* * *

Rowan couldn’t help but chuckle aloud when he stepped from Revello Drive to the driveway leading to Buffy’s house. Just a little more than a month ago he had followed Faith to the same place and now he sought the same spot where he had stood when Faith climbed the large tree to Buffy’s window.

“Buffy Summers,” he said aloud, looking up to the window the girl in question had opened for Faith that evening. Smiling at the memory, he dropped his glamour and went to the front door. He knocked a few times and almost immediately heard rapid footsteps approaching the door. “I got it, Mom!” he heard Buffy shouting inside.

The door opened, and Buffy was there in faded, light-blue jeans and a tight top which let just an inch of skin be visible between them.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Rowan asked with a decidedly neutral look on his face.

“Never,” Buffy responded and stood aside.

Rowan could see that Buffy was flustered when she noticed he had arrived empty-handed. When Buffy turned away from him to yell, “Mom! Rowan is here,” he discreetly dismissed the simple Air-based illusion he had woven around the backpack he wore and the long cardboard box he had been holding between his left arm and his body. He was still not above a little bit of dramatic flair.

Joyce had been waiting for their first guest’s arrival in the kitchen feeling nervous. How did one greet a demon who might be grotesque or misshapen? She tried to take solace in the fact that her daughter wouldn’t have befriended someone who was so obviously demonic. When she heard Buffy proclaim this Rowan’s arrival, she steeled herself for any eventuality and stepped out of the kitchen.

When Joyce emerged from the kitchen, Rowan turned to face the Slayer’s mother with a box full of roses in his hands. Buffy was looking at him with her mouth hanging open.

“Mrs Summers,” he said politely. “Our first encounter was cut too short. Please, accept these flowers as an apology for my undignified behaviour. I thank you for being allowed under you roof today.”

“Oh, my,” Joyce breathed out. “You’re... Rowan?”

“Yes, Mrs Summers. I trust Buffy has explained the special circumstances surrounding our first meeting.”

“Y-yes,” Joyce almost stammered. “Ummm, would you like some refreshments in the kitchen?”

“That sounds perfect, Mrs Summers.”


	17. Chapter 17

“So, how old are you really, Rowan?” Joyce asked curiously, having listened to a condensed version of Rowan’s personal history. The initial awkwardness had faded quickly and now it felt just like getting to know a new friend of Buffy’s.

Rowan took a sip of tea before answering. “It’s really hard to say, Joyce. You could say the question is meaningless what with the Void and all. But I saw eighty-two turns of the seasons before the Sealing.”

“You’re very well preserved for an octogenarian,” Joyce chuckled. She still couldn’t quite believe their guest was not human at all, despite all the visual cues right in front of her. “What’s your secret?”

“Twenty-seven millennia in a timeless Void and a spirit instead of soul will do that, Joyce.”

“So, you believe in souls?” Joyce asked curiously, finding this conversation utterly fascinating.

“No, I know for a fact that they exist.”

Joyce was still mulling over this revelation when the doorbell rang. Buffy was on her feet in a flash and went to open the door.

“I’d like to talk more with you later, Rowan,” Joyce said. “You are not at all what I expected.”

“It would be my pleasure, Joyce.”

If she had not instantly turned her eyes to the kitchen door, Joyce would have missed the look in Faith’s eyes when she saw Rowan sitting opposite her. Instantly turning her eyes to the target of that look, she saw Rowan’s eyes soften at the sight of the brunette. ‘ _Oh, I see.’_ Then, standing up to greet the guests, she went to take Faith in a warm embrace. “Faith, sweetheart. Happy belated birthday.”

“Thanks, Mrs S,” Faith answered, a little embarrassed, but with real warmth in her voice. Then, turning to her Watcher who had remained standing in the doorway, she gave introductions.

“Mrs Summers, this is Gwendolyn Post, my Watcher. Gwen, this is Joyce Summers, Buffy’s mother.”

“Welcome, Ms Post,” Joyce said shaking the young Watcher’s hand. “Please, call me Joyce.”

“Thank you, Joyce. It’s Gwen. You have a beautiful house.” There was no real warmth in Gwen’s voice. Even the compliment was delivered in a business-like tone.

* * *

Soon all the invited guests had arrived and after a cacophonous ‘Happy birthday to you’, it was time to open the presents. They had had to start the birthday song all over again as everyone had just stopped when Rowan’s powerful and pure baritone had joined them in the song.

“Acceptable, my ass,” Xander murmured shaking his head between their attempts at the song.

Joyce and Buffy had gotten Faith a gift card to Sunnydale’s best beauty parlour for a full facial and a manicure. Willow, Xander and Oz had pooled money together and gotten her a new portable CD player with good buffering against shakes and jolts. Gwen, Giles and Rowan had gotten her a nice set of Japanese kitchen knives.

“Really, guys, you shouldn’t have,” Faith said clearly moved after having opened the last present.

“Nonsense, Faith, dear,” Joyce said, hugging the girl. “I know you don’t like to talk about your life before Sunnydale, but I have a feeling you haven’t had too many happy birthdays. We want you to have a really good one today to make up for all those you may have missed.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Faith responded quietly, pushing the almost overwhelming emotions to the background. There was a short, uncomfortable silence which was interrupted by Giles. “Yes, well, time to cut the cake, I think.”

* * *

After the cake and some soft drinks, the two Watchers and Joyce adjourned to the living room while the rest of the gang made their way upstairs to Buffy’s room. No-one found it odd that Rowan went with the Scoobies instead of Joyce and the Watchers. Once inside Buffy’s room, the Slayers sat on the bed and the Scoobies sprawled themselves on the floor. Rowan took a seat on the floor too with his back against the wall.

“So, what should we do?” Buffy asked.

“I wish we had something to drink,” Faith muttered from beside her.

Everyone turned to Rowan who had cleared his throat rather theatrically. “Since I’m technically of drinking age but lack proper id, I got Rupert to get me these.” He opened his backpack and drew out two quart-bottles of white wine. They were a compromise between Giles’ initial refusal to get anything and his request for something stronger.

“Oooo, gimme!” Faith exclaimed and reached out for one of the bottles. Her earlier, sombre mood instantly brightening.

“I have an idea,” Willow said. “Let’s play ‘Never Have I Ever’.”

“I’m out,” Oz said. “Gotta drive still this evening. I got the karaoke player and a few discs in the van. I can hook it to Buffy’s TV and stereo set while you play.”

“Right,” Willow said, feeling a bit embarrassed. “We never actually held the welcoming party for Rowan. Maybe we could have it now. You ok with that, Faith? I don’t want to steal your thunder.”

“Hey, I’m five by five with that, Red. I never turn down an invitation for more partying. ‘Sides I don’t like being the centre of all this hubbub anyway.”

“Really?” Buffy deadpanned.

“You know what I mean, B. I’m still new with the friend-y stuff.”

Buffy stuck her tongue out at her sister Slayer and went downstairs to the kitchen for some shot glasses. “Just getting some more snacks, Mom!” she shouted in the general direction of the living room.

* * *

“Welcome to Sunnydale, Rowan!” everyone cheered. Excepting Oz, they were all sitting in a circle on the floor.

“Thank you, all,” Rowan responded solemnly with a raised glass. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to really settle anywhere. You make it worthwhile. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” everyone cheered and downed their drinks – Oz a glass of Sprite.

“Ok, I’ll start since I suggested the game,” Willow said after Rowan had refilled their glasses. “Never have I ever failed a test.”

“Lame,” Faith said and downed her glass. “New rule; only scooby or naughty questions allowed.”

“My turn, and two birds with one stone,” Xander said. “Never have I ever made out with a demon.”

Rowan and Buffy emptied their glasses. Buffy looked questioningly at Xander. “Praying mantises and Inca mummies don’t count,” he muttered.

Buffy was next. “Never have I ever used garlic on a vampire.”

Faith drank again. “What happened?” Buffy asked trying to suppress a laughter.

“Like Holy Water but less so,” Faith responded with a shrug. “I think it was Diane who said that it gets less effective the older a vampire gets. Something about the dosage needed to compensate that increasing exponentially.”

“That’s correct,” Rowan nodded. “It’s more effective when used to ward a room than in actual combat anyway.”

Faith was up next. “Never have I ever had a strap-on used on me.”

No one moved, so Faith took a drink herself.

Rowan was the last one of round one. He was glad to participate in such a good-natured past-time. He would be playing it safe, though. Nothing too dramatic. “Never have I ever slept with a stake under my pillow.”

Faith and Willow took drinks. Buffy gave her best friend a questioning look, but the redhead kept a decidedly neutral look on her face.

The game commenced for a few turns and everyone was getting more and more relaxed. There were a few extra rounds of drinks between the questions and the bottles were getting close to empty with five people participating.

“Never have I ever kissed someone of my own sex,” Buffy suggested. She was feeling pleasantly buzzy, her Slayer stamina being able to withstand the effects of alcohol much better than a normal human. She guessed Faith would be the same.

Faith and Rowan drank. Buffy laughed when Rowan winked at her, remembering Spike.

“Ok,” Willow said, swaying a little. “I’m definitely out after this round.”

“It’s just Faith and Rowan left, so we’ll call it quits after that,” Buffy said.

“Me, then,” Faith said. “Never have I ever tied anyone down for fun.”

For a moment Faith expected to have to take the drink herself but then, rather theatrically, Rowan raised his glass and drained it slowly. “I didn’t tell you all my dark secrets that evening at the library,” he said with a smirk. Faith felt her pulse quicken noticeably and the familiar tug below her waist made its presence known.

Rowan’s revelation should have resulted in an awkward moment as everyone realized how little they still knew about him. But all the wine they had consumed helped to avoid such a scene.

“What’s it like,” Xander asked before he could stop himself. The room went absolutely silent.

“Slight pain mixed with pleasure opens up unexpected avenues in one’s mind,” Rowan said lightly. “Also, how you act as a dom or sub can be a very educating experience.”

“And I think we’ll leave this game at that,” Buffy suggested. Trust Rowan to show once again how few restraints he had regarding topics others might find uncomfortable. “Karaoke, anyone?”

* * *

Faith was the first to go browse through the list of available songs in the set Oz had brought. “This one, Oz. Tasmin Archer’s ‘Sleeping Satellite’.”

Buffy had never heard Faith sing before, but it was obvious that the brunette was not for the first time behind a microphone. Faith’s smoky voice did the song full credit and, being boldened by the wine she had inside her, Buffy joined her for the “oh-oh-oh” parts of the song.

Next up were Xander and Buffy who did a nice version of “Mrs Robinson”. Neither was confident enough with their solo abilities so they both depended on the other to carry themselves through. They had heard Faith and Rowan today and immediately realized that the two were in a class of their own.

Then it was Rowan’s turn. Everyone looked expectantly while he whispered briefly with Oz.

“I don’t know that many songs from this era yet, but I heard this on the radio the other day,” Rowan said when Oz loaded the new disc. “I hope I’ll be able to do it justice.” Then the song started, immediately with lyrics.

_Oh, my love, my darling_

_I’ve hungered for your touch..._

The birthday song earlier had given them a taste of Rowan’s singing abilities but his rendition of “Unchained Melody” still left them breathless; all the high trills and complex crescendos having dropped flawlessly into place.

“Hey, you and Faith should also do a duet,” Willow suggested. She couldn’t herself sing to save her life, but she did appreciate those who could and were not shy to show it.

“I dunno,” Faith said pursing her lips. ‘ _It’s just singing, dammit. Don’t mean nothing._ ’

“It’s a far cry that we both know the same duet-y songs,” she continued aloud. Then an idea hit her. If Rowan had been listening to a classics station, he just might know this one song which she had seen in Oz’s list. She went to Rowan with a suggestion.

“There’s this song ‘Up Where We Belong’. Know that one?”

“Yes, I’ve heard it,” Rowan said eagerly. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

After Faith and Rowan had taken their bows to an enthusiastic round of applause, there was a knock at the door. Buffy took a panicked look around the room and quickly shoved the empty bottles and glasses under the bed. Xander rushed to open the window and Willow sprayed a cloud of musky-smelling perfume in the air; perfectly synchronized Scooby co-operation in action.

Outside the door were Joyce and both Watchers. “I’m sorry to crash your party, honey,” Joyce said apologetically to Faith. “Gwen and Rupert were just leaving as Gwen still has a plane to catch this evening.” The Watcher would be flying to England for the Christmas holidays and New Year. “We couldn’t avoid hearing your duet downstairs so we were wondering if we could stay for an encore.”

“Thanks, but no thanks, Mrs S. Maybe some other time,” Faith said but her eyes were on her Watcher.

“How about you, Rowan?” Joyce asked him instead. This was Faith’s party after all, and she didn’t want to push her.

“Certainly, Joyce,” Rowan responded. “Let me see if Oz and I can find something appropriate.”

The adults entered the room with Joyce sniffing the air. “Sorry, Mom,” Buffy said quickly. “A small accident with a perfume bottle.” She noticed Giles’ brief smile and the flickering gaze he gave to the floor by her bed. Nevertheless, he didn’t say anything.

Oz and Rowan were browsing through the VCDs and DVDs in Oz’s bag when Oz shook his head briefly. He took out a disc. “That’s odd. I don’t remember this one at all.” Rowan looked at the silver disc in Oz’s hand. It was titled simply “Songs from the Nordic Countries”. There was no other text on the label side except the list of songs on the disc. Rowan looked quickly through the list of unfamiliar titles and then, with the last title, he felt like a gust of wind had blown through his spirit. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the words printed there. Something twitched within his memories and then he knew.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said aloud. “I wish they’d tone down the melodrama.”

“What’s wrong, Rowan?” Giles asked in concern.

“I didn’t know anything about this song before now, but when I saw it listed here, I suddenly know it backwards and forwards. A latent gift from the Hegemon or the Powers? And Oz doesn’t remember bringing the disc with him. I guess I’m supposed to sing it... In fact, I feel almost compelled to do so.”

“Are you sure it’s wise?”

“No, but if I don’t do it, maybe they’ll find something else that’s not as pleasant as singing,” Rowan said and went back to their makeshift “stage”.

“Alright, everyone. The final song for this evening is an old Nordic legend. It tells the story of an encounter between the Last Ray of Sunshine and a goblin at nightfall.” Out of the corner of his eye, Rowan saw Joyce suddenly become more alert. “The Sunray has lingered behind her sisters who have already flown back to the Sun. The goblin, a creature of the night, has just risen from his cave for his nightly travels. I’ll sing it in the language it was originally written in, Finnish.”

They waited in silence as Oz pressed “play”. A simple guitar melody emerged from the speakers and Rowan began singing in his sweet voice in an unfamiliar, but beautifully flowing, vowel-rich language.

* * *

There was a total silence in the room when Rowan finished. Seconds passed and he leaned his back against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor, closing his eyes. The song still echoed in his head but the nagging compulsion to get it out had left him. Someone sat down on the floor beside him and took him into a warm embrace. Joyce.

“Giles?” Willow said in a small voice.

“Erm... yes?”

“Did you understand...? What did he...? I mean...”

“What the song was about?” Giles prompted.

“Um, yes.”

Everyone was surprised when Joyce took over. “I did my master’s thesis on European Romantic Nationalism and I know this song from back then. It always makes me cry. To me it’s still one of only a few songs that perfectly epitomize an impossible love. It doesn’t translate very well; Finnish has a very different grammar than English, but I still remember how it goes.”

“Mom?” Buffy asked totally dumbfounded as Joyce closed her eyes and started to recite:

_When sun had ended its journey,_

_the last sunray was just for a moment_

_left behind her sisters._

_Dusk was creeping on the grounds,_

_the sunray with its golden wings_

_was just about to fly away from it._

_Only, she saw a small goblin coming towards her;_

_it had just risen out of its cave._

_You see, a goblin cannot ever before nightfall_

_live upon the surface of the earth._

_They beheld each other,_

_the goblin felt in his chest_

_an odd flame._

_He said: “You burn my eyes,_

_yet I have never in my life_

_seen anything as lovely!_

_It does not matter that your radiance blinds me;_

_it is easy to wander in darkness._

_Come with me, and I will show you the way to my cave_

_and take you to be my bride!”_

_But the sunray answered: “Dear goblin,_

_the darkness will steal my life away,_

_and I do not wish for death._

_I must leave immediately;_

_unless I fly into the light soon_

_I cannot live one moment more!”_

_And so, the beautiful sunray left, but still,_

_as the goblin walks alone,_

_he wonders why one of us here is a child of light_

_and the other one loves the night._

‘ _Like Angel and I_ ,’ Buffy thought sadly, feeling hot tears on her cheeks. Giles must have seen her inner turmoil since he took her into a fatherly embrace and patted her back in sympathy.

“Mom?” Buffy asked hesitantly when she felt her voice would work again. “Could Faith and Rowan stay the night? They’ll be back tomorrow anyway for the Christmas Eve dinner. Gwen will be in England and Giles has a friend coming over tomorrow.”

“Of course, sweetheart, if they wish to,” Joyce answered still sitting beside Rowan. “They probably didn’t bring any extra clothes with them.”

“Faith can borrow from me and there are still some boxes of Dad’s stuff in the basement.”

“Would you like to stay, dears?” Joyce asked Faith and Rowan.

Faith just shrugged but didn’t object. She didn’t trust her voice; the song and Joyce’s recital had affected her deeply, but she didn’t want to show it to the others.

Rowan responded formally with “It would be my pleasure, Joyce.”

“I’ll move some of the paintings out of the guest room, so Faith can fit in,” Joyce said. “Rowan, I’m sorry but you’ll have to settle for the couch.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Rowan replied.

“I’ll drop by tomorrow morning and bring you fresh clothes,” Giles said meaning Rowan. Everyone knew he wouldn’t be bold enough to suggest picking up anything clothing-related for Faith from her apartment.


	18. Interlude - Slayer Dreams

Buffy was lying restlessly in her bed finding it hard to go to sleep. The Sunray melody was playing non-stop in her ears and she kept repeating the final words “ _he wonders why one of us here is a child of light and the other one loves the night_ ” in her mind. Eventually she entered a kind of half-daze and her mind started playing back a scene from earlier when Faith and Rowan had been singing their duet. This time, though, they were singing to just her and their stage act was much more daring. Slowly the fantasy transitioned into a different scenario; this time with a 360-degree PoV with full Sensurround sound.

* * *

_The door to her room opens quietly and two dark figures tiptoe inside._

_“He suggested we come here, not that I didn’t want to,” Faith says, coming to stand beside her bed. “Was just, yunno, not sure you wanted this. But he can be quite persuasive.”_

_Rowan comes to stand behind Faith and puts his arms around the brunette’s waist and his chin on her shoulder. Faith turns around in Rowan’s arms and the two lose themselves in a steaming kiss. Faith lifts her right leg and wraps it partly around Rowan’s hips._

_“We saw how you watched us on the stage,” Rowan winks at her over Faith’s shoulder. “You were practically undressing us with your eyes the whole time. Would you like to see us do it for you, for real?”_

_“Y-you two are so beautiful together,” she breathes out._

_“You didn’t answer the question, girlfriend. Still, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Faith says huskily with a seductive look over her shoulder._

_Faith turns suggestively around and undulates her body as Rowan slides his hands up and down her hips and crotch. In the dark of her room, the glow in Rowan’s eyes is mesmerizing. She is not sure, but is there a dimmer but still a definite glow in Faith’s eyes as well?_

_“Are you touching yourself under the duvet, B?” Faith asks mischievously as she tilts her head to the side to allow Rowan access to her pulse point. “Do we get your motor revving?”_

_Rowan starts unbuttoning Faith’s leather pants. “I made Faith shave down there,” Rowan says sliding his hand inside Faith’s pants. “So smooth, so wet.”_

_“You should have heard what Bright Eyes wants to do with you,” Faith says gyrating her hips against Rowan’s hand. “I thought he was just boasting about the B &D stuff, but he really knows what he’s talking about.” Faith winks at her. “Now that’s something I wanna watch.”_

_Rowan slowly slides the leather pants down Faith’s hips to reveal the scanty, black G-string underneath. With one smooth synchronized motion between the two, the pants are totally off and thrown aside. “Was gonna go commando but this is more fun,” Faith says hooking her thumbs around the waistband of her strings. She slowly turns around to give her a view of her perfect ass. Faith looks at her over her shoulder licking her lips sensuously._

_Faith pulls the t-shirt over Rowan’s head and kneels in front of him, kissing his smooth and taut torso on her way down. Faith slides her hand over the prominent bulge in his black jeans. “Wait until you see what’s in here. He made me come like four times on the couch and he is still ready for more. That’s Slayer stamina and demon endurance for you, B. Fang could have done that with you, but look what happened.”_

_“I’m dreaming,” Buffy suddenly realizes._

_“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t, girlfriend,” Faith says mysteriously while running her hand up and down the inside seam of Rowan’s jeans. “Maybe we are showing you something that could be.”_

_“She’s right, you know, Buffy,” Rowan says as Faith slowly unbuttons his jeans. “Always in motion is the future,” he continues, this time sounding like Yoda. “But if this is ‘just’ a dream, let’s make it count while it lasts.” With a single word he makes the rest of their clothes vanish. “Go for it, Sunray,” he nods to Faith._

_“Do you want us, B. Do you want what we are offering you, freely?” Faith asks her out of the blue._

_“N-n-no, I don’t... I don’t know...,” she stammers. “I want... I need...”_

_“Your insecurities are kinda cute, B,” Faith says more seriously. “But you let them rule you, prevent you from letting go.” She steps around the bed to the other side. Rowan remains standing on the other. “Here you have us, both willing, and you still cannot make up your mind.”_

_“Is it the girl thing?” Rowan asks._

_“Is it the demon thing?” Faith asks._

_“Is it the Slayer thing?” Rowan asks._

_“Is it the Angel thing?” Faith asks._

_“YES!!!” Buffy screams and the dream shatters._

* * *

Buffy woke up while it was still dark outside and felt... light-headed. She had had a beautiful dream which she was desperately trying to recall. Pretty soon, though, she realized to her discomfort that inside her PJs she was soaking wet and her fingers were still tangled in her pubic hair. She hadn’t had a wet dream in ages but now she vaguely remembered falling asleep with thoughts of Faith and Rowan circling in her head.

She slipped out of bed, opened her door quietly and stepped into the dark hallway. She didn’t turn on the lights; her Slayer-enhanced eyesight letting her see quite clearly in the dimness of the night. She didn’t even have to go to eavesdrop on the guest room door to know Faith was there, her gentle snoring being audible to her Slayer hearing even half-way down the hall.

She tiptoed her way half-way down the stairs until she could hear Rowan’s even breathing coming from the living room. Returning to her room, she once again lay in her bed for a long time just staring at the ceiling. She was suddenly feeling cold and so very lonely.

Eventually, though, sweet dreamless sleep took over her.


	19. Chapter 19

The morning of the Christmas Eve saw Sunnydale still within the grasps of an unseasonably warm weather front. Rowan had woken up early, as was his wont, and was in the front yard practicing basic punches against the large tree which Faith had climbed to Buffy’s window that day nearly a month and a half ago. The training he had undergone back _then_ to turn him into a well-honed weapon had been _much_ harsher from the start than the jujutsu class he had enrolled himself into. But, still, he meticulously practiced the basic forms they had so far covered.

After about half-an-hour of losing himself to the precision to get it just right again and again, he switched to his normal training regime. Near the end, he lifted himself to an easily maintained handstand and started doing push-ups.

“Quite impressive, actually,” Rowan heard Rupert’s amused voice say as he was nearing the end of his set.

Rowan let himself roll to his back on the lawn. “I seem to recall that Watchers do have a Council-mandated exercise program,” he said with a smirk, looking at Giles from the corner of his eyes. The Watcher had the decency to look embarrassed.

* * *

Rowan and Giles were in the kitchen enjoying a morning tea when Joyce came in hiding a yawn.

“Good morning,” she greeted them. “The girls still asleep?”

“Morning, Joyce,” both Giles and Rowan greeted her. “And yes, they are,” Giles answered her question.

“Would you like some breakfast?” Joyce asked and gave Rowan an affectionate hug from behind. She and Giles locked eyes briefly and then quickly turned away from each other.

“I’d like that very much, Joyce, but I don’t wish to...,” Rowan started.

“Nonsense, dear,” Joyce cut him off. It shocked her briefly how easily she was able to use the endearment with Rowan. She had never done that with Angel or Spike. “How about you, Rupert?”

“I’m fine, Joyce, thank you. I just dropped by to bring Rowan fresh clothes and I must be off in a few minutes. I’d hoped to be able to wish Buffy and Faith merry Christmas, though.”

As if his words had been a summoning spell, they heard steps descending the stairs and Faith appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing Buffy’s sweatpants and t-shirt. Joyce went immediately to hug the girl. They saw her give the tea pot on the island a look and then, looking uncommonly shy, go to the coffee maker and load it with a triple measure of grounds. She had just finished loading the machine when they heard another set of steps coming down the stairs.

Buffy came to the kitchen door and was greeted by her Mom’s enthusiastic hug and a kiss on the cheek. While she was held by her mother, her eyes sought the pair of amber ones which were looking back at her with a warm greeting. Then her eyes shifted to the other side of the kitchen to Faith who was casually leaning against the counter beside the bubbling coffee maker. Her thoughts from the previous night were still fresh in her mind even though the dream she had had was only a memory of happy feelings in the back of her mind.

Joyce brought the teacup to her lips and let her eyes wander surreptitiously from Buffy to Rowan and to Faith. The silent tension between the three was almost tangible. Rowan seemed to be the one most at ease which didn’t surprise her that much. The... boy was old enough to be her father, but so had Angel been... several times over. She knew that Buffy still felt guilty about Angel and had been sincere proclaiming that Rowan wasn’t her boyfriend. Then there had been the almost imperceptible exchange of glances between Rowan and Faith; both having most likely been unaware of it. And, now, she had felt her daughter react to seeing those two in the kitchen. She had no intentions of involving herself in their... triangle(?). Unless something extraordinary happened, Buffy would not, well, make anything happen. She knew her daughter to be somewhat shy and inhibited when it came to relationships and she just wasn’t an initiator.

Joyce thought she knew Faith as well. For all her bad girl image, there was an insecure child beneath the hard façade. But the brunette had a strong will and a good heart, even though something in her past had made the girl wary to really trust anyone and afraid to show her true feelings.

The only unknown card was Rowan. Like and unlike Angel; an old spirit in a much too young-looking body. While Angel had been dark and broody, Rowan was a... was an... oh, so nice boy; someone she would have liked to have as a younger sibling for Buffy. Shaking her head at all the mom-like thoughts popping out in her head, she decided to tackle a situation much closer at hand.

“Banana-pancakes, anyone?”

* * *

It was getting close to evening and Joyce was putting the final touches to her traditional eggnog; a recipe her mother had bequeathed her, which had in turn been given to her mother by Joyce’s grandmother. For the first time in a long time, well, since Hank left, she was feeling a family Christmas spirit take over her. For a few years it had been just herself and Buffy but now she could hear merry voices coming from the living room where Buffy, Faith and Rowan were watching Mickey’s Christmas Carol on TV.

“The best Christmas movie ever is next on FOX,” Joyce could hear Faith enthusiastic voice proclaim.

“And what’s that?” Buffy asked sceptically.

“Die Hard, of course, dummy,” Faith said playfully.

“That’s not a Christmas movie, Faith!” Buffy snorted.

“Wanna bet, girlfriend?” Faith asked, sounding smug. “When does it take place?”

“Well, on a Chr... Faith! That’s not fair. I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Miracle on the 34th Street’ and ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.”

“Don’t look at me. It’s my first Yuletide,” came Rowan’s amused voice. “But according to this magazine, both of them seem to be on today and tomorrow.”

Joyce shook her head and let out a happy sigh. She knew that Buffy, Xander and Willow had been best friends since she and Buffy moved to Sunnydale. But listening to the three currently bantering in the living room, they seemed to have a totally different dynamic between them, despite of the recentness of their camaraderie. ‘ _Maybe that’s because each of them knows fifteen ways to kill a demon with a dessert spoon,_ ” she thought with a laugh.

* * *

They were all lounging in the living room, enjoying a peaceful... well peace as Christmas songs were playing on the radio and the dinner was slowly roasting in the oven. Buffy and Faith were lying on the floor with a checkers board between them and Rowan was relaxing on the couch with his eyes closed, occasionally humming along with a song’s chorus. Joyce was taking all this carefree atmosphere in with a constant smile on her lips. The casual way Buffy was lounging on the floor, the cute frown on Faith’s face when she was concentrating on her next move, and Rowan looking so adorable sitting there with his eyes closed, one leg bent at the knee and resting on the other thigh and his arms crossed behind his head on the top of the back rest.

Out of a sudden there was a knock at the door. Joyce blinked a few times as she came out of her reverie and went to open the door.

“Xander! Willow! Oz!” Joyce exclaimed happily at seeing the trio. When the others heard Joyce proclaim their visitors, Buffy, Faith and Rowan joined Joyce at the door.

“We just came to wish you all a merry Christmas, Mrs Summers,” Xander greeted her. And after a subtle nudge from Willow he continued. “And happy Hanukkah, as well, from those of us of Jewish persuasion.”

“Thank you so much,” Joyce smiled. “Would you like some nog to warm you up?”

“Thank you, Mrs Summers. I’d like one,” Xander said gratefully. “We already had some, at Giles’, though,” he continued and then grinned widely. “He and that ‘friend’ of his, Olivia, seemed to have dipped into the nog somewhat enthusiastically already.”

Xander’s request for an eggnog was echoed by everyone present and Joyce went to the kitchen to get each of them a glass.

“Hey, Faith,” Willow said suddenly. “You’re from Boston, right? You must be used to white Christmases. How do you get to the Holiday spirit here in Sunnydale?”

“I do miss the snow,” Faith answered wistfully. Then her whole demeanour hardened once again. “That’s the only thing I really miss about that place and Christmas,” she said sullenly and buried her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

Faith’s words were followed by a short, uncomfortable silence until Joyce came to the porch carrying a tray of eggnogs for everyone. Having taken his glass, Rowan was thinking quietly. He hadn’t been able to get presents for anyone but, with Willow here, there might be a chance to give everyone here a memorable gift.

“Willow?” he asked softly. “You know how to summon the air and water spirits, right?”

“Yeah, but...,” Willow answered not initially comprehending the question. Then it dawned on her. “Oh, no, no...,” she said shaking her head. “I’m not even close to...”

“I’ll be your source,” Rowan offered, trying to convince the young Wicca.

“Wh-why don’t you do it yourself, like without me, with me being absent?” Willow babble-asked. The others around them were looking at their interaction with confusion.

“I want it to be my Yuletide present to you, and through you to us all.” There was another reason as well. He didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself. Altering the weather, even on a small scale, was quite conspicuous. Going through the “Witch route” was safer.

Buffy didn’t understand a word the two were exchanging. Willow looked to be balanced between excitement and fright. “Wills?” she asked uncertainly. At the same time Oz circled his arms around his girlfriend and asked “y’sure?”

Willow raised her eyes briefly upwards to the sky and then looked tenderly at her boyfriend. “Yeah, I’m sure and I’m ready.”

Faith had no idea what was going on, so it took her by surprise when Willow gave Rowan a radiant smile and the two joined hands in the middle of the front yard. Before she could even open her mouth, she felt the temperature around her drop by a magnitude of degrees. Willow was quietly chanting something unfamiliar and Rowan was looking at the red-haired Witch with a fond smile which raised a totally unfamiliar feeling of jealousy within herself.

After a few minutes of Willow’s quiet chanting, it started to snow within the perimeter of the Summers property and Faith forgot all thoughts of jealousy.

* * *

Buffy was looking at the mirror-like patch of smooth ice in wonder. The roof of their house and everything inside the fences surrounding their yard were covered with an inch of pure white snow; except for this square area of ice in their back yard. “Go get your skates, honey,” Joyce said from her side. “I know it’s been a while since you had a chance.”

Not needing a second prompting, Buffy ran inside the house and up the stairs to her room. In the back of the closet were her figure skates. Grinning, she tested the blades and, finding them in excellent sharpness, rushed back outside. Willow, Xander and Oz were engrossed in a snowball fight and, based on Willow’s squealing, some snow had found its way inside her jumper. Faith was doing sprints and then sliding over the patch of ice with her boots. Rowan was juggling with five snowballs to her Mom’s amusement.

Quickly putting the skates on and tying the laces, Buffy went on ice. She was a bit wobbly at first; besides her brief skating date with Angel the year before, it’d been a long time since her last time on ice but then muscle memory kicked in. Forwards, backwards, crossovers, pirouettes; she lost herself in the feeling as if she had gone back in time and was once again skating with her Mom and Dad in L.A.

“I think she could use some music,” Joyce said to Rowan as they were watching Buffy slide gracefully on the ice. They had brought a portable stereo set on the porch and had tuned it to the channel which was playing instrumental Christmas songs non-stop. After a few seconds the song changed and the opening bars of “O Come, All Ye Faithful” started playing.

“Oh, I love this song,” Joyce sighed happily. Then she turned to look at Rowan. “Could you...?”

“Yes,” Rowan answered with a smile. “Ever heard the original version, Joyce?”

“Huh?” Joyce blinked and then fell silent as Rowan started.

_Adeste fideles laeti triumphantes,_

_Venite, venite in Bethlehem._

_Natum videte regem angelorum:_

_Venite adoremus, venite adoremus, venite adoremus_

_Dominum._

_En grege relicto, humiles ad cunas,_

_Vocati pastores adproperant:_

_Et nos ovanti gradu festinemus,_

_Venite adoremus, venite adoremus, venite adoremus_

_Dominum._

_Venite, venite in Bethlehem._

_Natum videte regem angelorum:_

_Venite adoremus, venite adoremus, venite adoremus_

_Dominum._

Buffy stumbled only briefly when Rowan started singing but then she just went with the flow. Joyful and triumphant, she glided across the ice syncing her movements to the song. She felt like she was flying, and as the final “venite adoremus, dominum” hung in the air for what felt like a minute, she ended her performance with the best, tightest pirouette she had ever performed.

When it was over, she skated past Rowan and pulled him on the ice as well. Dropping to a deep curtsy she silently thanked him for the snow, the ice and the song. There was applause from multiple pairs of hands as Rowan bowed to her and they exited the ice.

“Thought you’d done it with the ‘Unchained Melody’, bro, but that was really something,” Oz said and clapped Rowan in the back.

Then Joyce rushed in to hug him. She had tears in her eyes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” was the only thing she could say.

“Yeah,” Xander said. “Where did you learn to sing like that anyway? I don’t imagine opera houses existed back in your time.”

“It was all part of the training,” Rowan explained once Joyce had once again let him draw in some much-needed air. “I was forced to make myself understood clearly from a hundred yards away, so I had to train my voice extensively. Then there was Aurora...” Here Rowan sighed wistfully. “You’ve heard the legend of Orpheus, right? I have a feeling that Aurora could have given him a good run for his money. She taught me the finer details.”

Willow and Faith came to sit beside Buffy as she was untying the skates. “You told me about the skating many times, but I never realized you were this good,” Willow said, sounding breathless.

“It’s been a long time and I’m really rusty,” Buffy dismissed her friend’s compliments.

“Nah, B. That was wicked cool,” Faith said.

“Did you ever skate in Boston?” Buffy asked and then bit her lip, having forgotten.

To her surprise Faith didn’t immediately shut herself off. “Some. Never was no good, though. No-one really taught me.”

Taking her sister Slayer’s hand in hers, Buffy gave her a smile. “I’ll teach you some time. There’s a hockey arena a short drive away. We’ll go there and I’ll teach you.”

“Sure, some time,” Faith said quietly.

“I guess all good things must eventually pass,” Rowan said once they were all back on their feet. Joyce nodded. As nice as it would have been to have their own winter wonderland all through the Holiday season, neighbours would eventually notice.

“Willow?” Rowan prompted the red-haired Witch and held out his hand to her. Willow nodded sadly and took it into hers. She whispered a short spell and then warm wind blew over them and the weather within 1630 Revello Drive returned to normal. The snow melted almost immediately. It took much longer for the magical ice rink to become only a memory.

* * *

The dinner was the crowning event to a perfect Christmas Eve. Joyce had opened a bottle of red wine basically for herself and Rowan but at the girls’ insistence poured both of them a few finger-widths.

“Who’s Aurora, Rowan?” Joyce asked curiously while sipping from her glass. “That’s a beautiful name. I remember thinking long ago that if Buffy were to have a little sister, I would name her Aurora.”

“Mom!” Buffy said through a mouthful of food. “Stop it.”

“I don’t mind, Buffy,” Rowan said mildly. “It’s a fair question. Besides, you and Faith have already heard most of this.”

Taking a sip himself, Rowan closed his eyes briefly. “Aurora... was a Sylph. A concentration of some unfathomable mystical energy is the closest description of her that we ever came up with. I don’t even know how she came into existence. One day she was just there, and... she knew me like an old friend. It took me a while to get used to that but eventually she became my closest confidant. She showed herself mostly as a sphere of light but occasionally she projected herself as a... hologram of a young girl, an intangible symphony of light like... like... the Aurora Australis. And when she sang, she could easily cover the entire range of modern voice types from below bass to above soprano without any real effort.” Here Rowan sighed. “She was the Key to locking the Seals in place and... since energy cannot be lost or destroyed, she is still here, around, but in a form that cannot interact with the physical world.”

“I know what you mean,” Joyce said quietly. “Many people believe their loved ones who are dead are still here in some ethereal form.”

Buffy felt unwanted tears come to her eyes. Her loved one had been dead for almost a quarter of a millennium before she ever met him, and he had been here in a very tangible form. And then she had...

“Yo, B! You with us?” Faith’s voice suddenly shook her out of her dark musings. “Pass on the gravy, will you?”

Trust Miss Piggy to go for fourths.

* * *

“Thank you, Joyce, for everything,” Rowan said at the door after having put on his jacket.

“No, thank _you_ , dear, for making this the most memorable Christmas Eve in ages,” Joyce said and hugged Rowan. “You’re always wel...”

“Don’t say that, Joyce,” Rowan said quietly. “I know what you mean.”

Understanding immediately, Joyce took hold of Rowan’s hands and squeezed them lightly.

“Buffy, Faith, enjoy the rest of the evening,” Rowan said to the two Slayers who were standing behind Joyce. “I’ll sweep Restfield and Rosemount on my way to Rupert’s. It’s not much but I don’t have any other presents to give you.”

“Y’sure you gotta go?” Faith asked quietly, not looking at Rowan.

“I don’t want to wear out my welcome. Better get while the getting’s good, right? Merry Yule, Joyce, Buffy, Faith.” With that Rowan turned around and walked briskly to Revello Drive and was soon lost in the dark of the night.


	20. Chapter 20

Giles was leaning forward against his desk, squeezing the wood with a painful force. He was just managing not to smash the device in front of him to pieces. “I did it because it is an ancient and barbaric relic which has no place in today’s world!” he shouted at the phone which had its speaker on. Gwen was looking at him disapprovingly.

“ _You leave me no choice, Rupert,_ ” the cold voice of Sir Quentin Travers echoed from the speaker. “ _As of now you’re relieved of duty. Gwendolyn will take over as the Watcher for Ms Summers and you will give her all the support she needs if you still hope to have a future with the Council. There’s only one reason I’m not immediately recalling you to London for disciplinary action, so you should consider yourself lucky._ ”

“Which is?”

“ _Ms Summers is not_ the _Slayer anymore, is she?_ ” the Head of the Council stated. He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “ _Gwen, code word ‘Antigone’. Do your duty._ ”

“Yes, Sir,” Gwen answered before the line went out.

* * *

“I don’t believe this,” Buffy said in a stunned voice as she and Faith were sitting side-by-side on the couch in Giles’ living room.

“I’m afraid so,” Giles answered from his chair. He looked dishevelled. He hadn’t shaved and there was a half-drunk bottle of Glenmorangie on the TV table. “I knew this would most likely happen when I told you about what each Slayer faces on their 18th birthday; the Cruciamentum. That was a risk I took willingly, and I’d do it again now that I know. You have faced so much more than any Slayer in recent history that I couldn’t, with clear conscience, subject you to that repulsive piece of archaic torture.”

“You... you protected me like a Watcher should and now you’re fired?” Buffy asked incredulously.

There was silence in the room until Faith spoke. “G, if it’d been me, being the older Slayer, would you have done the same?”

Giles didn’t hesitate in getting to his feet and going over to Faith. He laid a reassuring hand on the brunette’s shoulder. “I’d have done exactly the same for you, Faith. Now that you know it all, there’s no way they can trick you into it when your 18th birthday comes next December.”

“What about Gwen?” Faith asked emotionlessly.

“I don’t know, Faith. I don’t know,” Giles sighed and gave Faith’s shoulder a pat. Then he returned to his chair.

“Well, that settles it,” Buffy said and rose up herself. “If you’re fired, I’ll resign.”

“Buffy, you cannot do that!” Giles exclaimed, almost dropping the glass he had been raising to his lips.

“Who’s going to stop me?” Buffy shrugged. “I’ll just ignore Gwen and everything else Council-related and we go on as usual.”

“Right there with you, B,” Faith said with conviction.

“Faith, no,” Giles stated, fixing the dark-haired Slayer with a serious gaze. “Despite her shortcomings, Gwen had nothing to do with this. She is your Watcher under every relevant clause of the Council law and you’re still a minor until December. Besides, I haven’t been fired from the Council, not really. I’ve just been... demoted.”

“Demoted to lick the shoes of that bi...,” Buffy started heatedly but Giles interrupted her.

“That’s enough, Buffy!” the ex-Watcher said sternly. “I disagree with Gwen in many things, but she _is_ a Watcher and you will show her the respect that position entails. You _will_ work with her, both of you. I will be there, of course. We have already agreed that the library will remain the seat of operations for the foreseeable future. Basically, nothing changes. I was already on probation. Now it’s just... official.”

Buffy came to sit on the arm rest of Giles’ chair. She threw her arms around him. “You’ll still be my Watcher, Giles, regardless of what those old farts in London say.”

“Thank you, Buffy,” Giles said, overcome with emotion. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Hang in there, G-Man,” Faith said and playfully nudged the Watcher’s shoulder.

* * *

_A few weeks later..._

“But you didn’t bring the swords?” Gwen asked without raising her eyes from the notebook.

Faith tried to keep her voice even. “Like I said, we looked for them, but they just weren’t there anymore.”

“Can you describe them?”

“Sharp, pointy,” Buffy said, sounding perfectly serious. “Both of them.”

Both Buffy and Faith gulped when Gwen slowly turned her head to the side and looked at them from the corner of her narrowed eyes.

“One was long, the other shorter, almost like a dagger. Both were decorated with gemstones,” Faith hurried to explain.

Gwen turned to Giles. “Sound familiar, Rupert?”

“Erm, vaguely...,” Giles said in contemplation, scratching his head. “Illuminati, or something like that?”

Gwen’s lips turned to a rare smile. “’El Eliminati’, a fifteenth-century Spanish duellist cult.”

“Of course! They were very deadly in their day, but their numbers dwindled in later centuries...”

“... due to an increase in anti-vampire activity and a lot of pointless duelling,” Gwen continued. “They eventually turned to a demon called Balthazar and became his acolytes. Balthazar brought them to the New world; specifically, here,” Gwen finished the lecture.

“You seem to know a lot about them, Gwen,” Giles said.

“I started researching this town’s history shortly after India Cohen’s death when I heard that the next Slayer, Buffy, had moved to live here. I extended these studies immediately after my appointment as the new Watcher to Faith.”

“So why haven’t we run across them before this?” Faith asked.

“They were driven out approximately 100 years ago. Balthazar was killed, but the exact circumstances are unknown,” Gwen explained.

“And they are back now, ‘cos?” Faith prompted further.

“It is rumoured that when Balthazar was killed, an amulet in his possession increased his powers considerably,” Gwen told them. “The amulet was taken by a wealthy landowner named Gleaves who tried to use it for his own ends but ended up dead himself. The amulet was buried with him and now, I believe, the few remaining Eliminati are looking for it, for sentimental value.”

“And you don’t think this amulet poses any threat?” Giles asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, none at all,” Gwen said, brushing off the question. “Nonetheless, we might as well keep them from acquiring it. Buffy, you will go to the Gleaves family crypt this evening and fetch the amulet.”

“Why me?” Buffy blurted out. Gwen gave her an icy stare. “I’ll do it,” she continued hurriedly.

* * *

The Gleaves family crypt was massive, easily the largest in the cemetery. Buffy had naturally seen it many times before while patrolling but never paid much attention to it; its residents having so far been nicely dead and peaceful. She tried the massive doors which opened almost noiselessly due to good maintenance. The crypt’s walls were full of burial vaults and two large sarcophagi stood on the lowered floor. The heavy stone slabs on the sarcophagi slid aside easily, yielding to her Slayer strength. The first one contained only a skeleton but the one in the second had an amulet around its neck. ‘ _Game over,_ ’ she quietly celebrated.

Just as she was reaching inside to grab the amulet, she heard multiple voices from outside the crypt. Turning around quickly, she saw the flicker of torches through a grilled window. ‘ _Too many,_ ’ she thought and immediately rolled over the slab of the first sarcophagus and dove inside it. She quickly extinguished her flashlight and pulled the heavy slab over her.

She couldn’t see, but the sounds coming inside her hiding place told her that the Eliminati had found the amulet and immediately left with it. She gave them a few extra minutes and then slid the heavy slab aside. Just as she was half-out, a hand landed on her shoulder.

“What are you doing, B? Hiding in there?” Faith asked incredulously.

“Looking for the amulet but then some unannounced guest stars appeared. Six against one. Hence the hiding.”

“Well, now its six against two. Come on.”

* * *

“Well, it looks authentic enough,” Gwen said the next day after having examined the amulet for several minutes through a magnifying glass. “Of course, more tests need to be conducted before actual verification.”

“Maybe you should first verify why your nearly extinct duelling cult was out in magnum force last night?” Buffy muttered almost inaudibly. “We got into a serious party situation.”

They had followed the scavenger party to the sewers through a manhole over Buffy’s objections. In the end she’d had no choice except to follow Faith inside. After an epic battle they had recovered the amulet which Gwen was now examining.

“Are you alright?” Giles asked from the door to his office holding a cup of tea. He gave Buffy a warning glance.

“I exhausted all the hot water lathering, rinsing and repeating to get the sewer out of my head. Mom wasn’t amused. But, yeah, otherwise I’m good. Faith too. Thank you for asking.” The last was directed at Gwen.

“Perhaps there were more than anticipated but both of you should to be ready for situations like this by now.”

Buffy was saved from anything further by the bell.

“I have a chem test. So sad that I’m actually happy about that.”

* * *

Buffy was dancing like she had never danced before. Despite the high she was feeling after she and Faith cleared the nest at Restfield, she had been initially hesitant to go on the dance floor – even after the few shots of extra liquid courage Faith had been able to get them by giving the young bartender an unobstructed view down her cleavage. After they had drained their drinks, Faith had basically dragged her on the dance floor and then, imitating Faith, she just let herself go.

She was now touching herself, touching Faith, letting the pounding beat wash over her. She vaguely remembered another time in the Bronze and Xander’s words, “Bodies moving sensuously, touching, feeling...”. They were now doing all that and it was a poetry of movement with their Slayer reflexes and agility.

There was a circle of admiring guys around them and Faith was teasing them mercilessly. Faith was grinning at her as they moved in perfect synchronicity, and, for perhaps the first time ever, Buffy felt like a bad girl. She was wondering if this was what Faith was feeling all the time.

Suddenly she saw Faith’s eyes widen and then the brunette abruptly left the circle. Following Faith with her eyes she gradually stopped her movements when she saw Rowan casually leaning against a pillar under the staircase where he was mostly hidden from view.

Faith was still feeling light-headed by her and Buffy’s incredibly sexy dance and so, basically without thinking, she jumped at Rowan. She circled his waist with her legs and threw her arms around his neck.

“Hey, Bright Eyes. Come dance!” she said huskily.

Rowan had an amused look on his face as he gently lowered Faith on the floor. “I don’t dance,” he said looking into her eyes. He tried his best not to smile.

“Don’t you like the music? Come on, it really pumps.” Faith said trying to drag Rowan, who held his stance, back to the dance floor with her. “Or maybe you can’t? You’re not afraid of little me, are you?” she asked teasingly.

“One day I’ll take you up for it but now there’s something that needs taking care of. Hey, Buffy,” he said to the blonde Slayer who had followed a little behind Faith.

Buffy was feeling a bit pensive as she answered the greeting. She was somewhat jealous of the care-free way Faith had greeted Rowan. ‘ _I could so have done that if I’d just seen him first,_ ’ she tried to assure herself. It also gave her a little unhappy pang that he had not immediately rebuked Faith for her intimate approach.

“So, what’s up?” Buffy asked, trying to lighten her mood.

“I think we’d better sit down,” Rowan said.

They found an empty couch in a dark corner and Rowan took the centre seat. Immediately both Slayers sat down on both sides of him, close. He looked at both girls with an amused smile, and then rose up and sat down in the opposite chair. The Slayers didn’t close the distance between them after the unexpected vacancy.

“So, what’s the what,” Faith asked, a bit miffed. The rush from dancing was starting to leave her and she felt her ears redden, thinking back to Rowan’s apparent indifference to her basically full-blown “want”.

“Balthazar.”

The Slayers looked at each other in confusion. “Dead demon,” Buffy said. “Thought you knew.”

“It seems the reports of his death have been greatly exaggerated,” Rowan said solemnly, making both Slayers instantly alert. “The word on the grapevine is that he is back in town and looking for his...”

“... amulet,” Faith interrupted. “To restore his strength. Very Tolkien-y. So what? We got the amulet.”

“Where is it now?”

“There you are, girls,” Gwen said, approaching them through the crowd and looking annoyed.

“Meet Frodo Baggins,” Buffy said with a wink.

* * *

Gwen sat unceremoniously down in the spot between the two Slayers. She didn’t acknowledge Rowan’s presence at all. She opened her purse and took out two pagers. “Faith, Buffy. When you’re out slaying, you _will_ keep these with you. Furthermore...”

“Where’s the amulet, Gwen?” Rowan asked, interrupting the Watcher’s admonishment.

“It’s somewhere very safe,” Gwen answered without looking in his direction.

Faith rolled her eyes and threw Gwen’s purse to Rowan who opened it and took out said amulet.

“Now, wait just a moment...,” Gwen exclaimed, standing up.

“Carrying this is like wearing a target. You don’t want that,” Rowan said and hid the amulet from view inside his jacket.

“You’ll put it somewhere safe that’s actually safe?” Buffy asked Rowan.

“I’ll do it now,” Rowan nodded and stood up. He drew the glamour upon himself.

“And we’ll do some recon on Balthazar,” Buffy said and glanced at Faith who nodded.

“Excuse me. Balthazar is dead. There are more pressing...,” Gwen began, flustered at being so blatantly ignored.

“Be careful,” Rowan said looking briefly from one Slayer to the other.

“Always,” both Slayers assured.


	21. Chapter 21

The next evening, Buffy and Faith were hiding in the shadows behind the old warehouse which also served as Balthazar’s lair. They had followed one of the swords-vampires there and then witnessed four of them leave the building about half-an-hour ago. The entrance appeared to be unguarded.

“I’d better do some additional reconnaissance,” Buffy whispered. “I’ll sneak around the building and meet you back here. Keep watching the entrance.”

“I just love it when you go all G.I. Jane on me, B,” Faith whispered back.

“Been around PFC Harris too long. The military stuff tends to rub off,” Buffy muttered.

“‘S cool. Go.”

Instantly disobeying Buffy’s order to watch the entrance, she fixed her eyes on the retreating back of the blonde Slayer. She loved to watch Buffy’s lithe and athletic body move, especially from behind. Her gaze was transfixed on Buffy’s cute butt and she felt her heart skip a beat every time the blonde slayer crouched down and the black pants she was wearing tightened around her firm behind.

She was so far into fantasy land that she nearly missed the warning tingle from her Slayer sense and almost got slashed in half when two of Balthazar’s swordsman vampires suddenly jumped her. Buffy had already vanished from sight and was most likely all the way to the other side of the building by now.

She was barely managing to defend herself and was quickly tiring. The two vampires kept their distance on the opposite sides of her, feinting and then retreating in turn. She hoped that B would be returning shortly, so she just had to last until then... unless the blonde Slayer had also run into trouble.

Suddenly the night moved. There was a whispering silken sound and the vampire behind her was suddenly parted with his head which rolled on the concrete until it stopped between her and the other vampire and turned to dust.

Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she threw her stake at the remaining vampire who had kept his eyes at the spot where his companion’s head had stopped a little too long. He never noticed what hit him.

“Ok, show yourself,” she said quietly, standing at full alertness and slowly wrapping her fingers around a stake she had slid out of her sleeve.

There was an amused chuckle a few yards away from her in the deep shadows which the lights didn’t touch. Then, like the Cheshire cat, the chuckle and two glowing eyes slowly materialized into a grinning Rowan. He was holding a sword in his hand, identical to the longer one those swordsman vampires had been using.

“What are _you_ doing here?” she growled, still feeling... rebuffed from the night before.

“Saving a damsel in distress, it seems,” Rowan winked at her and brandished the sword. “I was on my way to Willy’s to get more information on Balthazar when I noticed one of those swords-vampires sneaking in. Then I heard and saw you. Got this sword from him. Luckily he wasn’t holding it anymore when he disintegrated.” Then he re-adjusted his posture to a more formal stance; there was something important to be done.

Faith was still thinking of a suitably scathing retort when she saw Rowan’s relaxed stance shift slightly and become more poised.

Switching the sword to his left hand, Rowan held out his right one to Faith. “Faith, Slayer Lehane. I declare my debt to you paid in full. Let there be no more words of debt between us.”

Faith was at a loss for words. Instinct, however, made her grab Rowan’s arm and say “Sure, whatever.”

The moment was over in a heartbeat as Rowan released her arm and dropped the sword. In a flash he sprinted past her at the nearby row of dumpsters. There was a brief struggle and then he pulled someone out from behind them. He twisted around and threw a body forcibly at Faith’s feet. She had instinctively grabbed a stake from inside her jacket, and it was already moving downwards along its deadly arc when she felt, sensed, saw or heard something which halted her hand and made the tip of the stake stop just an inch above the prone body’s chest.

“Oh God, please, don’t kill me!” a man’s terrified voice pleaded.

* * *

“Who are you?” Rowan asked the man after having helped him back to his feet.

Faith was watching everything unfold in mute horror. The stake she was holding dropped from her numb fingers. ‘ _Oh my God! Oh my God! I almost...,_ ’ she was screaming inside her head.

The man had just opened his mouth when Rowan heard the wooden clatter behind him. He raised his hand to halt the man, turned to Faith and took her into a firm embrace.

Faith froze when she felt Rowan’s arms around her, a primitive reaction. She was not used to being hugged for comfort, especially by someone she... didn’t know how she felt about.

“Shhh, Faith, it’s alright,” Rowan tried to soothe the distressed girl. “Look at him, he’s fine. Shaken, stirred but fine.”

Acting on instinct, Faith pushed herself away from Rowan’s embrace. Nodding to her with an understanding smile, he turned back to the man who was now watching them curiously.

“So?” Rowan prompted the man.

“I’m Allan Finch, Deputy Mayor of Sunnydale,” the man introduced himself. “I know the lady beside you is Ms Lehane and I was expecting her... counterpart, Ms Summers, to be present as well. I don’t know who you are.”

“It’s better that you don’t, Mr Finch,” Rowan replied. “How much of what happened here did you see?”

“I arrived just before the vampires attacked Ms Lehane. I saw you... materialize and behead the one behind her. And then...”

“You were very stealthy,” Rowan interrupted. “How?”

“The Mayor assured me I wouldn’t be noticed. He sent me to watch and report back on any... slaying activity in this area. Which begs the question. How _did_ you realize I was spying on you?”

“Call it a soldier’s instinct, Mr Finch. You may think of me as a special force operative if it helps to put your mind at ease.”

“Ah, the Initiative,” Finch started but fell silent at Rowan’s suddenly narrowed eyes. “Sorry, I just happened to hear them mentioned a little while back. I apologize for bringing it up. It’s above my clearance anyway.”

“Why are we having this conversation, Mr Finch? I know your presence here goes beyond a simple spying mission for your boss. You sought us, or rather Buffy and Faith, out, for reasons of your own,” Rowan stated, getting back to the business at hand. The term “Initiative” didn’t ring any alarm bells and he didn’t want the Deputy Mayor to catch him speaking out of turn. He filed that away for future reference.

“They are Slayers and you have a major demon problem,” Finch announced somewhat pompously.

“You don’t say, chiefy,” Faith said sarcastically. She was still feeling a little beside herself, having just been a heartbeat away from becoming a murderer.

“I do. It’s the Mayor,” Finch said and then, suddenly, went very rigid. His eyes stared straight ahead and small tremors ran up and down his body.

“What’s the Mayor?” Faith asked and then, in rising alarm, looked at Rowan. “What’s wrong with him?”

Without answering, Rowan took hold of the trembling man’s shoulders. Finch’s eyes were bloodshot and there were traces of white foam in the corners of his mouth. He seemed unable to draw breath and fell to his knees with his hands around his throat.

“He’s been cursed,” Rowan realized. He focused briefly on Air and forced some of it into the man’s lungs. He knew immediately that, even like this, he could only give Finch a few extra seconds.

“The Mayor is... the demon,” Finch managed to croak with a pleading look in his eyes. He seemed to realize the severity of his situation. Then, with final determination, he forced himself to speak as his face started to turn blue. “He... he’s going to become one. He... is not quite... human anymore. I’ve seen... stuff. He’s planning something... something called... an ‘Ascension’.”

With that he slowly fell to his back. His eyes never wavered away from Rowan’s.

Rowan’s mind was working furiously. ‘ _This just turned personal,’_ he thought grimly. ‘ _I wonder if the Powers..._ ’

“Faith, do you trust me?” he asked without taking his eyes away from Finch.

“What?” she asked, dumbfounded. ‘ _There’s the “T” word. I don’t..._ ’

“I need to know if you are willing to trust me with your life,” he asked in a steady voice which still carried with it a hint of sorrow Faith barely recognized.

“I... I...,” she began but then voices from her past started a chorus inside her head drowning everything else. ‘ _Faith, trust me... You can trust me, Faith... It’s ok, trust me... Trust me... Trust me..._ ’ She dropped her gaze to the ground in front of her and tried to _think_. The voices in her head made it difficult. She raised her hands to her ears and shook her head. Then she suddenly remembered the cave and a pleading voice breathing her name. She lowered her hands and looked at Rowan with resolve.

“I do.”

At her words Rowan nodded and grabbed the discarded stake from the ground. He kneeled beside Finch whose eyes were slowly closing and dimming but still managed to communicate understanding. With a quick move, Rowan rammed the stake in the dying man’s chest, and a final throat-ripping scream left the man’s mouth along with a spray of blood.

Faith was watching all this initially in shocked horror. She had avoided becoming a murderer only to witness Rowan kill Finch in cold blood. No, she realized quickly, that was not the case. Rowan had just given the slowly dying man a _coup de grâce_.

Yanking the stake out of the dead man’s body, Rowan turned to her with a serious look on his face.

“Now, Faith, listen carefully. We don’t have much time.”

* * *

Buffy had just finished dusting the Eliminatus she had encountered on the opposite side of the building. It had been an unusually long fight; her opponent hadn’t been half-bad. She was close to getting back to where she hoped Faith was still waiting for her when she heard a hair-raising scream from somewhere ahead of her.

She started running, abandoning all efforts at stealth.

When she reached the place where she had left Faith, she saw Rowan of all people kneeling beside a still figure lying on the ground. Faith was standing a little distance away with a bloody(?) stake in her hand. On the ground lay a man’s body, his white shirt and chin wet with fresh blood. There was a gaping hole in his chest.

“Rowan? Faith? What...?” Buffy gasped in shock. She saw Faith just standing there, rooted on the spot, with a vacant look in her eyes. Suddenly the dark-haired Slayer dropped the bloody stake, turned and ran away into the night.

Almost against her will, her eyes sought the bloodied corpse. ‘ _No, no, no, no, no...,_ ’ her mind kept repeating until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She lashed out instinctively and, to her surprise, her fist was grabbed in a strong but gentle grip and held in place.

“Buffy, you need to leave,” she heard Rowan’s steady voice. “Forget Balthazar for now.”

“But what... what about...?” she couldn’t quite say it, but her eyes drifted back to the body on the ground.

“Don’t worry, Buffy; I’ll finish here,” Rowan tried to assure her. “There’s a pay phone nearby. I’ll make an anonymous call to 911 and mention an attacker with inhuman speed and strength. Based on what I’ve come to understand about the power dynamics of Sunnydale, both natural and supernatural, something like that might just get this case transferred to, let’s say, ‘people in the know’. Now, go, please. We’ll meet back at the library.”

‘ _But now, let’s see about you, Lord Balthazar,’_ Rowan thought grimly as she watched Buffy stagger away. He knew that Finch’s final scream had brought out a few nocturnal witnesses and that it would only be a matter of time before the Mayor received word of Finch’s “murder”. There would be no need for a 911 call. Careful not to leave any additional marks, he dragged the body back to where Finch had been originally hiding – behind the row of dumpsters, out of view. He also collected the stake Faith had dropped. It burst into flames on his palm. After a few seconds of intense burning, not even ashes remained of it.

Picking up the sword he had taken from the third Eliminatus, he made his way to the corner of the warehouse.

A few minutes later Rowan watched from a hidden high balcony as Balthazar was cursing at the few minions in his presence from the pool he was occupying. ‘ _How far are the mighty fallen,_ ’ he thought with a grin as he watched the former Demon Lord’s bloated body being constantly moistened by a member of the Eliminati.

“It’s been a hundred years since my enemy crippled me! A hundred years!” he heard Balthazar yell. “Now, ultimate power is within his grasp and I shall not let it be! This evening the Slayers will know what keeping my amulet away from me really means. We’ll see how much they value the lives of their Watchers. You two, bring the prisoner in. I need some amusement. The rest of you, get out of my sight. Go! GO!”

‘ _Well, we_ are _desperate, aren’t we?_ ’ Rowan thought and was just about to slip outside through the narrow window he had used for entrance when he saw Balthazar’s prisoner being dragged in in chains. It was the same vampire he had seen in Buffy’s company when she returned to her body after their meeting in the Void.

‘ _Angel._ ’


	22. Chapter 22

Gwen was pacing back and forth in Giles’ office. “You have an emotional problem, Rupert. One you just don’t want to admit.”

“My attachment to Buffy has never been a problem. In fact, it’s been very useful,” Giles retorted, trying to keep his voice and temper even. “Why bring this up now?”

“It’s starting to affect my work and what I’m attempting to accomplish here,” Gwen said heatedly. “Besides, I’m not only talking about your former charge.”

“You’re not talking about Rowan, surely?” Giles asked surprised and leaned back in his chair.

“I am indeed. He is a loose cannon and we have no idea about his allegiances or motives.”

“Good God, Gwen. After all this time you still cannot but use your prejudices to try to compartmentalize him into some narrowly defined box your mind has constructed. Do you have any idea what a unique chance we have by having him on our side? And before you even ask, yes, I’m very fond of him.”

“How do you know he is even on our side? ‘He’s very good’, I’ve heard you and the girls say. Well, what if he has fooled us all this time? A few months or years is nothing to him. He has the amulet now. He took it from me before I had had time to analyse it fully. What if he tries and manages to tap into its powers and use them against us?”

Giles shook his head at the narrow-mindedness of the young Watcher. He was pretty sure Gwen was compulsively jealous of Rowan. Giles admitted freely that he was himself somewhat jealous of Rowan for his looks and abilities, but in Gwen’s case the jealousy had long since given way to hatred.

Gwen came to stand in front of Giles’ desk with her arms crossed over her chest. “The way you handled this assignment was always something of an embarrassment to the Council. The truth is, you were never qualified to be a Watcher in the first place.”

Giles threw his glasses onto the desk. “If you want to criticize my methods, that’s fine. While you’re at it, don’t criticize my methods.”

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself, Rupert,” Gwen said patronizingly. “You did passably well, regardless. But now it’s up to me to restore the prestige of this position, the Watcher to an Active Slayer, two I should say, to the level it should enjoy.”

“You’re aiming for Quentin’s seat when he retires,” Giles suddenly realized.

Gwen shrugged with a smug smile. “It was just time for someone more qualified to take the field.”

Giles eyes flicked to something behind Gwen. “Now would be a good time to start.”

Under different circumstances Gwen’s shocked gasp would have been quite satisfying. But now, four Eliminati were watching them through the window which separated the office from the library.

* * *

Buffy was slowly making her way to Sunnydale High on unsteady legs. She kept to the back alleys and jumped every time she heard sirens in the distance. She kept playing back the scene she had witnessed; Faith with the bloody stake, the body on the ground, Faith running away. One word kept repeating in her mind, “ _Murder_ ”. Her stomach was in knots and she was close to hyper-ventilating. About half-way to the School she couldn’t hold it anymore. She fell to her knees and emptied her stomach on the cold ground. She heaved and heaved until there was nothing more inside her to bring up.

It took almost five minutes before she felt stable enough to get back to her still somewhat wobbly legs. She had to take support from a wall when she felt she might black out. That was when she heard heavy footsteps, several of them, approach her from another back alley. Hiding herself in the shadows she got the second shock of the evening when she saw Gwen and Giles being ushered at sword point by four of the swordsman vampires in the direction she had just come from. The two Watchers had their hands tied behind them and Gwen seemed close to collapse. In the dim light of the alley, Buffy could see the woman stumble and stagger like a drunk while Giles was walking quite coolly with his back straight.

Buffy’s first instinct was to get Faith but then, again, recollection shocked her to reality. She knew she couldn’t handle four Eliminati by herself even at full strength, let alone now after having just lost every breakfast, lunch and dinner she had had for the past week or so. So, she started following them at a distance hoping that Rowan would still be where she left him.

A few blocks from the warehouse she heard her name being whispered just loud enough for her Slayer hearing to pick it up. She turned to face a dark alley and to her relief saw Rowan standing in the shadows holding an Eliminatus sword. He motioned for her to follow him deeper into the alley.

“They have Giles and Gwen,” she whispered urgently.

Rowan nodded and watched her gravely. He had no idea how Buffy would react to the news.

“What is it?” Buffy asked him, feeling fresh anxiety rise in her chest. She knew it took lots to make Rowan anything less than composed.

“They have Angel.”

Buffy understood the words she had heard but could not connect them to a coherent idea. ‘ _They have...? What do they have?_ ’ Then it hit her full force and if not for Rowan rushing in to steady her, she would have collapsed to the ground.

“What? How? It’s not... It cannot be,” she whispered, feeling a numbness start to spread out from her heart. She shook herself free of Rowan’s hold. “You must be mistaken. You don’t even know Angel. I... I killed him.”

“I know more than you think, Buffy. I didn’t tell you this before, but we two have met before Faith brought me to your house.”

“I... I don’t understand.”

“You died fighting the Master and the Powers brought your soul to the Void where I was held. We talked and when you returned to your body, I saw Xander and a vampire resuscitate you and help you back to your feet. Later, or perhaps immediately afterwards, the Void was pierced by Acathla’s portal and I saw that same vampire within, on his way to the Lower realm. It was by inverting that portal that the Powers basically dragged me back to the world. The... memories I have connected that vampire to Angel / Angelus. Buffy, I’m certain Balthazar’s prisoner is Angel. How he may have returned, I have yet no idea.”

‘ _This is too much._ ’ Buffy was desperately trying to _think_. ‘ _First Faith, then Giles and now Angel._ ’

“I... I cannot...” She was unable to finish the sentence through the pain in her chest and the ache in her head.

“Buffy. We’ll get them all out. But you need to focus.”

“You have the amulet! We’ll trade that for Angel,” Buffy suddenly realized. She would fight Rowan for the amulet if needed.

“And Giles?” Rowan asked quietly, looking at the distressed Slayer in the eyes. It wasn’t the first time said amulet had sown discord.

Buffy was struck speechless. In her urgency, she had not even thought about her Watcher. She lowered her head in shame.

“The amulet is our last bargaining piece if things come to that. Balthazar would trade anything for it. He’ll afterwards betray any promise he had made, of course, but he won’t kill Rupert and Gwen while there’s even a small chance he might get his amulet back through bargaining.”

Rowan held her eyes with a piercing gaze. “Are you up for this?”

Looking into Rowan’s steady, amber eyes, Buffy started to regain her composure. “Yes,” she said.

* * *

Buffy and Rowan watched the scene below from the same balcony Rowan had used before.

On their way back to the warehouse, Rowan had explained her that he had hidden the body behind the dumpsters and that the Eliminati with their prisoners interrupted him before he could do anything else. Despite her instinctive unease about tampering with a crime scene, Buffy had been secretly relieved; the SPD wouldn’t be crowding the area while their mission was still on.

Her throat had almost seized when she first saw Angel, and all thoughts of the body lying outside left her mind. The vampire was being hung by his manacled wrists. The manacles were connected by a short chain which was fastened to a hook controlled by a pulley. An Eliminatus was standing close to him, holding a knife. Each time the swordsman made a small cut on Angel’s skin, the vampire screamed like the knife had been thrust fully inside his body. Only the fact that there were seven other Eliminati, fully armed, around the pool Balthazar was occupying prevented her from jumping down immediately in Angel’s aid.

“Any ideas?” Buffy whispered with tears in her eyes.

“We wait for the right moment.” Rowan whispered back.

“And then what?” she asked without looking away from Angel’s tortured body.

“Simply? I divert, you slay.”

“I like the sound of that,” Buffy managed a small predatory smile as Rowan slipped quietly back outside through the window.

* * *

Giles kept his eyes on Balthazar’s bloated body, trying his best to filter out Angel’s agonized screams. It had been a shock seeing the vampire being tortured as he and Gwen were escorted into the warehouse. He hadn’t really been able to forgive Angel for killing Jenny and torturing him, even with the knowledge that it had been Angelus who had done the deeds. Buffy had sent the vampire to a hell dimension, but that fact hadn’t really quelled his anger and fulfilled his wish for revenge. But now, seeing the vampire being mercilessly tortured like this in front of his eyes, he realized that the righteous fire, the one having been kept alive by his Ripper persona, had quietly burned out somewhere along the way.

He also immediately realized that by associating themselves with the vampire, their chances of surviving this would plummet from slim to non-existent. He turned his attention to Gwen who was being held upright by two of the Eliminati. Without their support, she would have collapsed to the ground. Her normally impeccable hair was dishevelled, and her head was lolling from side to side. She was moaning quietly.

“Shut her up,” Balthazar ordered and one of the Eliminati slapped her forcefully in the face. “And let the prisoner be for a while. I can’t hear these two worms over his screams.” The Eliminatus responsible for the current torture session bowed to Balthazar and laid the knife he had been using on Angel on a nearby table.

“Oh, God,” Gwen managed to mumble through bloody and swollen lips. “Oh, God.”

“Doesn’t seem too promising, does it?” Giles said in an even voice.

“S-s-stay calm, Rupert. We have to stay calm.”

“Thank God you’re here, Gwen. I was planning to panic.”

“What _is_ that thing?” Gwen asked trying to collect herself.

“That would be your demon. You know, the dead one?”

“Bring them closer,” Balthazar ordered.

Giles twisted his shoulders to shrug off the hands of the Eliminati who were holding him and stepped forward on his own. Gwen’s legs still wouldn’t support her, so she had to be practically dragged.

“You know what I want,” Balthazar said, looking at them with his blood-red eyes.

“If it’s for me to scrub those hard-to-reach areas, I’d like to request you kill me now,” Giles deadpanned. That earned him a hard fist between the shoulder blades.

“Are you insane, Rupert? This is hardly the time for games,” Gwen squeaked in a high-pitched voice.

“Why not? They’ll torture us to death anyway.”

“He’s not wrong about that,” Balthazar chuckled with a touch of admiration for the Watcher’s bravado.

“Now, hold on!” Gwen pleaded desperately. “We can deal with this rationally. We have something you want. You have something we want.”

“A trade. Intriguing,” Balthazar said, mulling over the Watcher’s words. “No. Wait. Boring. Bring her here,” he continued in a leering voice, licking his lips.

There was a sound of running liquid and suddenly Giles found himself standing in a pool of urine which was quickly spreading on the ground from around Gwen’s feet.

“NOOO!!!” the woman screamed and twisted madly in her captors’ grip. “The Slayers gave the amulet to...”

“Shut up, Gwen!” Giles roared which earned him another heavy punch, this time in the kidneys.

“I... I can tell you everything, please,” Gwen begged.

“Be quiet,” Giles hissed through the pain in his lower back. “They’ll kill us both.”

“But, but... oh, my God, oh, my God. I cannot take this anymore.” The front of her blouse was drenched with blood from her mouth, snot from her nose and tears from her eyes. She looked to be very close to a full mental collapse.

“You will tell us everything! Everything, you hear!” Balthazar shouted.

“Yes... yes, Sir. Oh, God, please don’t make me...”

“What is this someone’s name?” Balthazar demanded, clenching his hand into a fist.

“Look, tell you what,” Giles interrupted when Gwen was just opening her mouth. “Let her go and I’ll tell you what you need to know. How’s that deal?”

“There is only one deal! You will die quickly, or you will die slowly! The one who has my amulet! What is his name!”

“His name is A’Rowane Than’Shea,” Rowan said in the Old Tongue from where he was standing in the doorway with the Eliminatus sword he had acquired earlier in his hand.

* * *

When everyone’s attention was briefly on Rowan, Buffy dropped to the floor in front of Angel totally surprising the Eliminatus who had been the main torturer. She kicked him in the stomach and, at the same time, slid his sword from the scabbard. As the vampire bent over, she brought the sword down to his neck like an executioner.

In the brief confusion, Rowan sprinted at the circle of Eliminati. Before anyone had time to react further, he had beheaded the Eliminatus closest to him, imitating Buffy.

Already engaging her next target, Buffy chanced a look at Rowan. He had positioned himself between the majority of the Eliminati and the bound Watchers.

While engaging her next opponent, Buffy let one of her strikes follow through to spin her around. Mid-spin, her blade slashed through the ropes binding Giles’ hands. With his hands free, Giles untied Gwen who was watching the erupting chaos around them like one paralyzed with her mouth hanging open. Giles dodged a slash which struck a heavy desk. He elbowed the Eliminatus in the face and grabbed the sword which flew loose from the vampire’s hand. He was immediately engaged by another swordsman, whose blows he easily parried before striking him in the face with the cross-piece. As the vampire fell, he saw Gwen being grabbed from behind by another.

“Rupert!” Gwen begged with a sob as the vampire’s fanged mouth closed in on her neck.

“Down!” Giles yelled.

Gwen went limp in her captor’s arms and slid to the ground. Just where her head had been a split-second earlier, Giles’ sword moved in a deadly arc and lopped the vampire’s head off his shoulders. He disintegrated with a shill scream. That was the last sound Gwen heard in a long while as blackness descended upon her.

Rowan had just finished the last Eliminatus in his immediate vicinity when he felt a terrible pain in his head. Turning around to face Balthazar, he saw the triumphant look in the Demon Lord’s eyes. He had to drop the sword and bring his hands to his temples. He ground his teeth together but couldn’t hold back the scream escaping his mouth.

“You have my amulet, Framadar,” Balthazar said in the Old Tongue with an evil grin. “Just being this close to it, gives me access to my lost powers. Too bad you had to wait this long, only for it to end so quickly.” He extended his grubby arms and drew Rowan inexorably towards him like a magnet draws iron filings. The amulet ripped through his jacket and flew towards its master; the elemental seal Rowan had laid around it to hide it had been torn to pieces like paper.

Buffy watched Rowan’s agony in desperation. Looking around quickly she noticed the lamp hanging just above Balthazar’s pool. Swinging her sword, she cut the rope which was keeping the lamp at the correct height above the demon. Just as Balthazar triumphantly grabbed his long-lost amulet from the air, Rowan’s screams were suddenly echoed by his as electricity surged through his massive body. The force holding Rowan vanished and he slumped to the floor in front of the pool while Balthazar continued screaming. The air was filled with the sickeningly sweet smell of burning flesh.

Everyone went quiet as arcs of electricity danced around and on Balthazar’s body. Smoke was coming out of his ears and mouth as his keening scream went on and on. Then he went quiet and the current died down as the fuse blew. The amulet was a melted piece of metal in his claw-like hand.

Buffy turned to where Angel was hanging and was just about to run to his side when Balthazar’s eyes opened. They were boiled blind but still the demon turned them in her direction.

“S-s-slayer,” the demon hissed. “You think you’ve won,” Balthazar let out a rasping laugh. “When _he_ rises, you’ll wish I’d killed you all.” With that, he let out his last breath.


	23. Chapter 23

“Angel?” Buffy whispered, standing in front of the still vampire. “Do you... do you understand me?” Behind her she could hear Rowan retching and groaning as he was trying to get back to his feet.

She reached out slowly and touched Angel’s cheek. She drew back in shock when Angel opened his eyes and growled at her like a wild animal. He pulled against the chains holding him, twisting his head around madly. His torso was full of small cuts but nothing that should have caused him to scream like she had heard him do earlier.

“Angel?” she tried again. “It’s me, Buffy. You’re back.” But Angel’s eyes were totally wild, and he gave no indication that he recognized her.

Rowan came to stand beside Buffy on unsteady legs, holding his head and grimacing. His nose was still bleeding profusely but he paid it no mind. He had severely underestimated Balthazar’s powers with the amulet. Less than a minute more and he might not have walked away from this fight. “Buffy, Slayer Summers. I’m in your debt.”

“No debts between us, _Framadar_ ,” Buffy answered basically on instinct. She had no idea where the words had come from.

Rowan was impressed. “No debts between us, Slayer.”

He turned his attention to Angel. “Time flows very differently in some of the Lower realm domains. We have no idea how long, relatively, he may have stayed there.”

“I remember,” Buffy said quietly, thinking back to her brief stay in one of the hell dimensions. “So, he could have been down there for, what, decades? Centuries?”

“Yes.”

“Of torture.”

Giles came to stand behind Buffy and laid gentle hands on her shoulders. “It would take someone of extraordinary will and character to survive that and retain any semblance of self.”

Buffy turned around to face the ex-Watcher. “We need a safe way to transport him out of here; to the manor, I think. That means Oz and his van. Is the tranquilizer gun still stored in the library?”

“Yes. And I think I saw a pay phone nearby when they led us here. You should make the call; I need to check on Gwen.” The last sentence was said with something close to pity.

“And I’ll do some scavenging,” Rowan said. “Balthazar may have some useful items stashed somewhere in here. I’ll also keep an eye on Angel, Buffy. I know it’s hard for you to see him like this, but believe me, he is now infinitely better off than before our arrival. Rupert, before you go, I private word, please.”

Watching Buffy leave the building, Giles turned to Rowan expectantly.

“Rupert, Watcher Giles. I declare my debt to you paid in full,” Rowan said formally and held out his hand. “Let there be no more words of debt between us.”

“I accept, _Framadar_ ,” Giles said, feeling a warm flush and grabbed Rowan’s forearm.

After Giles had gone to check on the unconscious but shivering Gwen, Rowan went to the table on which Angel’s torturer had left the knife he had been using. He had basically recognized the dark blade from the effect it had had on Angel but now looking at it closely he was sure. This was something that he definitely didn’t want to leave lying around. ‘ _A part of the Game? First Angel and now this little beauty._ ’ He sheathed the knife carefully and hid it under the waistband of his black jeans in the small of his back.

The table was adjacent to a small office with large frosted-glass windows. It was dark inside but luckily the blown fuse had not killed the lights there. Having flipped the switch, Rowan blinked briefly from the cold bright light emanating from a single bulb hanging from the lowered ceiling. The office was bare and featureless, except for a desk on which a small, elaborately engraved chest-like metal strongbox was sitting. It had a handle attached to the lid for easy carrying and a matching key was in the lock. The box was heavy for its size, but Rowan had no intention of checking the contents before making sure neither the lock nor the lid were booby-trapped or warded. He took it back to the main hall and laid it down on the table from which he had picked up the knife. Then he went to have a look at Angel.

The vampire was no fledgling by any means, but he tried the same method to get his attention. “You. Can you understand me?” he said in the Old Tongue. There was a flicker in the wild eyes of the vampire, and he focused his gaze on Rowan.

“You don’t fool me,” Angel growled back in the Old Tongue. “First you show me Buffy and a rescue mission and now you try to pass yourself off as one of the _Lehaïr_. Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.”

Buffy returned to the warehouse after having reached Oz and stopped in amazement at the conversation going on between Rowan and Angel. She was about to cry out when Giles stopped her by gently covering her mouth with his hand. “Shh, let’s see what happens.” Giles’ voice sounded like he was holding back tears.

“My name is A’Rowane Than’Shea. You may have heard of me during your years in the Lower realm. I am, or rather was the Framadar of the Companions of Light during the time the Soft Places were sealed. You’re back in the Middle realm, the world, Angel, but I don’t know why or how you were released. I do know that back here you have been the prisoner of the Demon Lord Balthazar. He’s dead now, look.” With the last sentence Rowan nodded his head towards the still smoking corpse of the late Lord Balthazar.

Buffy couldn’t hold back her tears as she listened to the two. Rowan and Angel appeared to be in a world of their own, distanced from the time and space she and the others occupied. She couldn’t understand the words they spoke, but she felt almost elated. Angel definitely had his mind and self with him. Strangely, the scene made her think of Faith and how she wished her sister Slayer were here to share this with her so that she could hold her and tell her everything would be alright.

Giles had never before heard a full conversation being held in the Language of Legends by participants fully proficient with it. He knew Rowan spoke it natively and Angel must have learned it during his long years in the hell dimension. He knew his own lifetime would not be enough to learn it even passingly, so he just let himself enjoy it flow over and through him.

“You’re wasting your time, scum,” Angel finally sneered at Rowan, sounding bored. “Your mind tricks are getting old.”

“Is there any way I could convince you?”

“Nothing really comes to mind, so why don’t you just go fuck yourself.”

“Are you familiar with Elemental Magic?” Rowan asked, locking his eyes with Angel’s.

“Yes,” the vampire answered hesitantly, taken aback by the suggestion.

Rowan nodded and without hesitation put the fingertips of his right hand on his temple, focusing on Spirit. He continued in the Old Tongue. “I swear to you, mind, voice and heart, that the girl I bring before you will be the one who she says she is. So, mote it be.” Then he reached out and touched Angel’s chest with the same fingertips.

“I accept. Bring her here.”

Rowan turned around and nodded to Buffy. Giles tried to stop her, but Buffy brushed his hand away almost angrily. “What do I need to do?” she whispered to Rowan when they were face-to-face.

Flicking his eyes to Angel who was watching intently, Rowan gently touched Buffy’s lips with his fingertips. “Believe.”

Buffy’s heart was hammering in her chest as he approached her chained boyfriend. The eyes looking back at her were feral and his mouth was twisted in a snarl. Taking a deep breath, she closed the distance between them and leaned her head to the side baring her neck, knowing full well that Angel could now reach out and rip her throat out with his teeth if he wanted to.

Rowan and Giles were looking anxiously as Angel’s lips moved closer to Buffy’s throat. They saw Buffy wipe the corner of her eye briefly and then say “Angel?” in a voice filled with love. They heard Angel answer hesitantly back, “Buffy?” and then Buffy had her arms around Angel’s bloodied torso, and she was crying huge and trembling sobs against the vampire’s chest. Angel asked again incredulously, “Buffy?” before his eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp, with only the chains holding him upright.

* * *

At the same time as Angel lost consciousness, Rowan fell to his hands and knees on the cold concrete floor. He was panting as if he had run a marathon. His eyes were full of tears. ‘ _So close, so close._ ’ He felt gentle hands on his trembling shoulders and, looking up, saw Rupert’s concerned face hovering above him.

“What did you do?” the Watcher asked in a voice that was just above whisper. “I... I think I could feel something pass between you three.”

Rowan shook his head, avoiding the Watcher’s eyes. “I... I made a Sprit-bound vow to Angel that whatever Buffy told or showed him would not be a deception. If he had harmed Buffy, I’d have felt it ten-fold. By sealing the pact with my mind, her voice and Angel’s heart he knew beyond any doubt that whatever passed between them couldn’t be anything but real.”

“Oh my God, you,” Giles choked unable to hold his tears any longer. He took Rowan in his arms and hugged his exhausted friend tightly. “Thank you.”

“Rupert?” Rowan whispered, having trouble breathing. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to pass out now.”

Giles laid the unconscious Rowan gently to the concrete floor. His chest felt tight. The willing sacrifice Rowan had made for his friend, for love’s sake, was simply staggering. Blinking back his tears, he felt soft arms embrace him from behind. “Giles?” he heard Buffy whisper over his shoulder. “I need to tell you something. It’s about Faith.”

* * *

When Xander, Oz and Willow entered the warehouse, the scene they encountered was something out of the ending of an apocalyptic movie. An industrial-metal environment, swords littering the floor and, near most of them, a pile of dust. There was a truly horribly obese demon lying in a pool of water looking like he had been boiled in it. Giles and Buffy were holding each other close, sobbing. Rowan and Gwen were lying on the floor like fallen heroes of an epic battle. And what really stopped them was the third still body on the floor beside the two. Angel.

“Out of sight, man. Out of sight,” Xander was the first to open his mouth.

Oz, being Oz, just said, “Wow.”

Willow, being Willow, threw herself at Giles and Buffy and started sobbing with them.

* * *

The mansion on Crawford Street had been abandoned by its original inhabitants long ago and unwelcoming was practically carved on its doorsteps. Whether it was because of Sunnydale’s peculiar attitude towards anything supernatural, not even teenage boys dared to approach the premises. Angelus had made the mansion his abode after Giles torched his, Spike’s and Drusilla’s previous hideout after the killing of Ms Calendar. Even now, almost a year afterwards, all his belongings were still in place and untouched.

Buffy was sitting on the edge of Angel’s bed, holding her boyfriend’s hand. Angel was sleeping, relatively easily. As a compromise between comfort and security, his other wrist was tied with a soft rope which was fastened to a ring bolted to the wall. The rope was long enough to allow his arm to rest on the bed but short enough not to allow reaching anyone by the side of the bed. The haunted, predatory look on his face was smoothened and he seemed to be dreaming without nightmares. Rowan was sleeping in the other bedroom, being looked after by Giles and Willow. Gwen was tossing and turning on one of the couches in the main hall, occasionally moaning something unintelligible. No one was currently paying much attention to her. Oz and Xander had left sometime before having been tasked with getting them some food stuff.

“What do you see,” Giles asked gently, having watched Willow look intently at the unconscious Rowan.

There was a short pause. “His aura is really something I can’t describe,” Willow said almost dreamily.

“What?” Giles asked, taken aback.

“Huh? W-what? What did you just say? I must have spaced out,” Willow blinked and shook her head. “He looks so peaceful.”

With a thoughtful expression Giles left Willow with Rowan and wandered back to the main hall. He sat on the other couch opposite the one Gwen was restlessly occupying. Xander had brought the silvery strongbox inside and laid it on the table between the couches. Giles spent a long time looking at the lid, the key and the lock from every angle. There was no indication that the box was trapped but that didn’t mean it wasn’t. He called to Willow quietly.

“That’s a pretty nice box,” Willow said. “It’s valuable, isn’t it?”

“It’s old, antique; probably Spanish in origin,” Giles said. “I can tell that much just by looking at it. Now I’m more concerned about whether it’s been warded or not. Could you perhaps try an identify spell to see if there’s an enchantment on it?”

Willow’s brow furrowed as she was thinking. “I don’t have the components for a full detection spell, but I could check if it has anything malevolent embedded in it.”

She went to the fireplace and scooped a handful of ashes from it. She drew a circle and a pentagram around the box with the ashes and muttered a short spell. Nothing happened.

“Ok, there are no curses on it,” she nodded. She started towards the kitchen to get her hands cleaned up and something to clean the table with.

“Willow,” Giles called after her. “Please bring me a wooden fork with a long handle if you can find one.”

The key turned easily with the fork as additional leverage. There was a “click” but nothing else happened.

“Get behind me, Willow,” Giles said as he manoeuvred the fork through the handle on the lid so that he could use it as additional leverage to pull the lid open from behind.

When the lid opened, there was a swishing sound and a sharp blade swung across the opening. Giles cursed and almost dropped the fork. Willow let out a small squeak. Then they both fell silent.

“I think someone just earned himself a Howard Clark sword,” Giles said quietly. The insides of the chest were lined with rich purple velvet. It was strikingly contrasted by the pile of American Gold Eagle coins, each with a $50 face value.

“But Giles,” Willow said after they had examined the contents. “There are roughly 60 coins in there. That’ll only amount to about $3,000 in total. It’s not enough,” she finished sadly.

“Willow, these are gold bullion coins,” Giles explained. “The face value has nothing to do with their real market value. If I recall correctly, the current price of bullion gold is close to $300 per troy ounce. With each of these coins weighing approximately that, we are looking at a total value of maybe $18,000.”

Gwen’s quiet moan was overshadowed by Willow’s as her butt hit the couch with a thump.

“Besides,” Giles continued. “This box is an exquisite piece of art in its own right and should easily fetch at least an additional $5,000 if appraised and sold at an auction.”

* * *

The Honourable Richard Wilkins III, Mayor of Sunnydale, straightened the pen in its holder before moving around his desk to the office door. Opening the door, he came face-to-face with a dark-haired girl whom he had previously known only by reputation. And that reputation had just gotten a new aspect tonight, based on the phone call he had received just an hour earlier.

“I’d like to make a confession,” the Slayer greeted him evenly.

“I was expecting you, Faith,” he said and motioned for the girl to enter the office.


	24. Chapter 24

“Now, Faith,” The Mayor called the Slayer’s attention from behind his desk. His fingers were steepled under his chin and he swivelled the high-backed leather office chair from side to side in small movements. “Every relationship comes down to one thing; trust.”

Faith flinched inwardly at the “T” word but nodded attentively. She leaned back in her chair and propped her boots on the edge of the Mayor’s desk trying to project relaxation she didn’t really feel.

“Hey, hey, none of that!” The Mayor said in a firm voice and threw her a box of moist towelettes.

“Sorry,” Faith replied meekly and wiped the area on the desk her boots had touched. She dropped the used towelettes in a bin the Mayor offered her.

“Now, getting back to the business at hand. Yesterday evening you explained what happened with Allan. I believe you when you say it was an accident and that your... friends freaked out. The SPD is incompetent enough to botch the investigation on their own, but I will help them see... other avenues of probable cause. I can’t sweep this fully under the rug, I’m afraid; Allan _was_ a public figure after all. But as it comes to you, coming back here this morning was the first step. Just remember who it is that really knows the truth about you.”

‘ _Well, it isn’t you, Dick_ ,’ Faith thought with a straight face. She didn’t where her resolve originated, but she didn’t have too much trouble keeping her voice straight and her features from betraying her true thoughts and emotions while she kept up her act.

She had spent the night in a guest room at the City Hall. The Mayor had given her the night to decide on her commitment. If she appeared in his office the next morning at nine, they would talk further. Otherwise... well, the Mayor hadn’t really elaborated on the “otherwise” part, but the way he had delivered the word clearly indicated that balls and chains, and twenty-five to life, would be involved and that they would most likely be the least of her problems. That didn’t matter; she knew her resolve.

The Mayor looked at her speculatively for a moment. “I guess I should tell you what the team I sent to the scene this morning found in the adjacent warehouse,” he said.

A cold hand suddenly gripped her heart. “Balthazar’s lair?” This time she couldn’t keep her voice from wavering which was just as well.

“One very dead and well-done Demon Lord with a melted amulet in his hand,” Wilkins said sounding almost giddy. Then he burst out laughing. “I should send Ms Summers a bouquet of flowers in appreciation for doing my dirty work for me.”

“Sir?” Faith asked hesitantly. She had lost the track of this conversation, but she felt relieved. She had no idea what had happened after she fled the “Finch scene” but it was apparent that the Scoobies had taken care of Balthazar afterwards.

“No matter, Faith,” Wilkins said, wiping his eyes. The Mayor stayed quiet for a long time and Faith was starting to get uncomfortable under that calculating stare. Wilkins was not at all what she had expected. He was well-built and had a powerful personality, almost overbearing. She had expected a timid pencil-pusher, regardless of what Finch told them. There was... something weird about him, though. Finch had mentioned him “not being quite human anymore”. There were the up and down mood swings, the almost OCD-like aversion to anything unsanitary, and those were just from having observed him for maybe an hour last night and now with this discussion.

“Let me continue a bit more about trust, Faith.” Wilkins continued. “I said I believe you regarding the way you came to be here, but I don’t trust you, yet, and I don’t expect you to trust me fully either.”

He was good, Faith would give him that. But she had lots of experiences about older men trying to worm their way inside her, in more ways than one.

“I have... special people at my disposal but most of them are not really good for day-time work. I never expected to have a Slayer in my payroll, but your being here does make things easier. I’m in a... transitional phase in my life and certain things need to happen in a specific order within the next few months to complete the transition. I’d like to see you play an important part in the final stages of this process, Faith. If you impress me and keep me impressed, I can guarantee good things coming your way. Better things than you can even imagine.”

Suddenly Faith’s Slayer sense tingled, and the office doors opened behind her. She was out of her chair in a flash and saw a familiar figure in an impeccably tailored suit standing in the doorway.

“What the fuck?!” she cursed, reaching for a stake she didn’t have.

“Hey, hey, language!” Wilkins admonished her and then continued more jovially. “I think you and Mr Trick already know each other.”

“Hiya, kid. Long time, no see,” the vampire said with a wide grin on his dark face.

* * *

“Let me get this straight. You want me to work for a fu... a vampire?” Faith asked incredulously after she had, with some difficulty, sat down again. The urge to rush the former associate of Kakistos was almost overwhelming. While she was still gathering her bearings, Trick had come in to stand next to the Mayor.

“No, Faith. You’ll be working for me. You will be working _with_ Mr Trick, however. He’ll get you what you need and handle any day-to-day, or shall we say night-to-night, business you may have. I will always have time for you, Faith, never doubt that, but the next few months are going to be hectic. I don’t want you to feel that you might be lacking something whenever you might need it.”

The Mayor turned to Mr Trick. “Now, what did we have in mind for our new Slayer?”

“The Books, Mr Mayor,” Trick said in his sophisticated voice.

“Ah, yes,” Wilkins said with a small laugh and turned back to Faith. “It has come to my attention that there may be a demon in town selling arcane books who has in its possession a set of volumes I’m most anxious to see taken off the market. This demon has managed to keep its whereabouts hidden so far and refused or failed to answer to any roundabout attempts at contact. You will find me this demon.”

“That’s it? Just information-gathering?” Faith asked, blinking a few times. She hadn’t expected to be given a seat at the Round Table on her first day but not this either.

“For now,” Wilkins answered. “In case you need to... relieve some pent-up frustration, feel free to utilize your... skills whenever appropriate. I don’t need to be briefed daily on an ongoing investigation, but, like I said, Mr Trick will be at your disposal if you require anything or need to pass on info. Come back when you have some solid intel.”

“Got it, Boss,” Faith said evenly.

“We should see to your living arrangements as a priority,” Wilkins continued as if reading from a list of action points. “Staying at your present lodgings won’t possible anymore, I’m afraid. I’m sure you understand. I also have no doubt you’ll be able to avoid any... unpleasant encounters with your former... with Ms Summers and her group of misfits.”

“There’s the motel...,” Faith started.

“No Slayer of mine will ever stay in a motel,” the Mayor said sternly, wiggling a finger. “All kinds of unsavoury things go on in them. You’ll spend a few nights here and by then I should have been able to make the necessary arrangements. Ok?”

“Five by five, Boss,” Faith agreed. Then her stomach suddenly growled loudly.

“I think someone here is in need of a breakfast,” Wilkins said laughing. He grabbed the phone on his desk and pushed as single button. “Joan? I’ll be sending down a young woman called Faith. Could you show her the cafeteria and tell them to give her a full breakfast on the guest account? Thanks, Joan, you’re the best.”

“Joan is our First Impression Manager, or receptionist as the traditional job title says,” Wilkins explained, lowering the handset back to the cradle. “Now, off you go and eat your belly full. Nutritiously, mind. You need your vitamins.”

Mr Trick saw her out and at the door took a slim, brown envelope from the inside breast pocket of his jacket. “A down-payment, Slayer. Remember who pays your bills now.”

Inside were ten, crisp $100 bills.

* * *

“What do you think, Mr Trick?” Wilkins asked after the vampire had closed the door behind the Slayer.

“She seems solid, but, then again, I’m hard to impress. I know something of her past from Kakistos, and it’s troubled. She almost fell apart when we appeared at her motel. When she and the other Slayer did away with the cloven-hooved fool, there was a clear tension between them. I think we could exploit that.”

“What is it with all these ancient vampires, like the Master and Kakistos?” Wilkins mused. “Do they get mental deficiencies with the physical transformations?”

Trick shrugged his well-tailored shoulders. “Ask me again in a thousand years or so.”

“I might just do that. Anything new of Allan’s unfortunate demise?”

“Nothing. According to the preliminary report, he was definitely run through the heart with a wooden object. The somewhat sketchy eyewitness accounts say there were three people at the scene; the descriptions match the two Slayers and someone who was most likely Xander Harris – a dark-haired boy. But we need a communication plan. Here are my drafts for the press release and your official statement,” the vampire said laying a few print-outs in front of the Mayor. “The Chief’s in on this.”

Wilkins read the texts quickly through, chuckling to himself. Staking meant that the precautions he had taken against betrayal had most likely not been triggered. Any traces of the curse he had put on Allan would have vanished with his deputy’s death. His secrets were still safe, and he had a hook on a Slayer.

“You didn’t mention she’ll be looking for a Skylar demon,” Trick said after the Mayor had laid the papers back on his desk.

“Let’s see her show some initiative. Which reminds me. Anything new regarding the same with a capital ‘I’?”

“Nothing. Colonel McNamara has refused to divulge any further information regarding their plans.”

“Well, that’s something for a later day. Maybe I’ll pay them a surprise visit in a few months’ time. And, Mr Trick, have her tailed.”

“Yes, Sir.”

* * *

“$18,000,” Rowan stated flatly as he looked at the contents of the strongbox. He was sitting next to Giles on the couch with the silvery box open on the table in front of them.

“That is my best approximation,” Giles said with a nod. “Enough for a sword, and you’ll be left with a good amount of spending money.”

“The sword I think I’ve earned but I want you to have the rest. I don’t want to be a freeloader.”

“Rowan...,” Giles almost choked. “That’s really not necessary.”

“It is, to satisfy my honour if nothing else. Please?”

“I will take it, Rowan, but only half.” Giles conceded after a short pause, not wanting to insult his friend by totally refusing a sincere offer. “For the rest I will act as a caretaker if you wish. Whenever you may have need for any of it, for anything – clothes, books, entertainment and so on – you won’t hesitate to ask.” He held out his hand which Rowan shook with a nod.

“I accept. Besides, I will be keeping the box. If it is valuable, as you say, I still have something for a later day.”

* * *

Buffy had been listening to Giles and Rowan’s discussion with a slight smile on her lips. She had no intention of contesting Rowan’s right to get himself any sword he wished with the spoils of their battle. She remembered Rowan’s comment from before about Giles’ generosity going to last only so far. Well, that “far” had just extended a lot further into the future. She didn’t know why exactly, but the idea of Giles having Rowan to live with him for the foreseeable future just gave her a happy feeling that at least something was well in the world.


	25. Chapter 25

Gwendolyn Post woke up from a long nightmare. She had been dreaming of being violated by a horribly bloated demon whose compelling voice had convinced her to surrender to him willingly. There had also been an incredibly handsome boy who beckoned her to join him on the other side of a divide she couldn’t quite comprehend. She had looked back at him with disdain and then given in to her primal urges. Now awake, with the dream slowly vanishing from her conscious mind, she came face-to-face with reality which smelled like the sweat of fear and urine.

“Rupert?” she croaked through a dry throat. The face of the owner of said name was suddenly in her view.

“Have you already thought how this will look like in your diary?” Giles said quietly.

“W-what?” she asked uncomprehendingly.

“You’ve been unconscious for almost 24 hours. Try and recall, Gwen. Balthazar?”

The name suddenly brought everything back to her. Her freezing at seeing the four vampires looking straight at her in the library. The march at sword point to what she had known would be her end. The cool way Rupert had taken everything in. The demon who would have... taken her. Her absolute helplessness. The Slayer and... Rowan. The two had carved their way through the multitude of Balthazar’s minions trying to save Buffy’s former Watcher... and her.

“No,” she whispered.

“I will tell you how it’s going to be, Gwen. The reports and diaries you’ll be sending back to the Council will say nothing but how splendidly things are going on here in sunny Hellmouth. In fact, I’ll be outlining the entries for you. One of your Slayers has just killed a man and is a runaway from law. I will mention nothing of this, you likewise. Just tell me that from here on, you will do exactly as I, Buffy or Rowan tells you.”

“I... I,” Gwen stammered.

“The alternative is that the Council will receive a report from _me_ describing your not-so-heroic actions in the hands of Balthazar and his minions. The matter of your incapability of controlling your Slayer may also come up. Despite my current status, you would not be able to spin this to show you in any but the worst light possible if the investigation were to be brought to the disciplinary court.” Giles’ voice was cold as ice as he told her what her fate would be if she didn’t co-operate. If the Council got word of her total melt-down in the face of an enemy, not to mention her failure with Faith, her career would be practically over.

“I... I agree, of course,” she surrendered, self-preservation taking primacy over her pride. She knew there was one more capitulation still waiting for her, perhaps the most painful one.

“Splendid. Now, let’s see you get cleaned up,” Giles said and helped the trembling Gwen to her feet.

* * *

Angel was slowly surfacing from a deep abyss. At any moment he was instinctively prepared for the pain he knew was inevitable. He was totally unprepared for the feeling of a soft mattress against his back and something... warm pressed against his side. Still keeping his eyes closed he briefly wondered if this was a new angle in the eternal bad demon / worse demon play. But there was something in his heart which told him in no uncertain terms that what he was feeling was not part of an intricate brain fuck. His mind also felt uncharacteristically clear; thoughts and feelings being somehow less restrained by the usually overwhelming hatred and anger.

Carefully opening his eyes to a slit, he let out a disbelieving gasp. He had been dreaming of this place for so many times that it was impossible to believe it to be anything but an elaborate illusion; Sunnydale, the mansion. Demonic illusions, though, usually had at least one aspect which eventually revealed them to be just that, a mind’s construct, to bring forth the helpless anguish of the one being tormented by said illusion. This one didn’t have that feeling, or then some really high-level Lord had suddenly taken an interest in him and decided to up the ante. Another tug in his chest somehow allayed this fear in him.

There was something restraining his right hand. A quick glance in that direction showed a loose rope tying his hand gently but firmly to the wall. This was unusual; painfully tight rusty manacles were the usual norm. His other hand felt unrestrained and, moving it a little, his fingers were suddenly immersed in a thick mane of hair. This action made the warm... someone stir, and he heard a languid “mmmm” by his left side. This purr-like hum was followed by a few sleepy-sounding words delivered in a language he thought he should understand.

An impossible hope, a feeling he had not experienced in... forever, suddenly flowed through him. He remembered the _Lehaïr_ , the binding and... “Buffy?”

A sound of sharply indrawn breath by his side made him open his eyes fully and seek the sound’s origin. Impossibly large hazel eyes were looking back at him from a face that had for so long been his only anchor to sanity. “Angel?” came a hesitant question from trembling ruby-red lips. Yes, that was his name. Angel.

He suddenly felt a wave of panic, like the walls were crashing down on him. His shortly lived inner balance was shaking and he was once again teetering on the edge of a bottomless pit. He had to attack first, but he was bound, again. The girl, (‘ _Buffy! She’s Buffy!)_ ’, was anxiously saying something soothingly-sounding but he couldn’t understand the words. If only he could understand the words! Then a new voice cut through the distressed pleading of B-Buffy – one he could understand, oh yes.

“ _Angel!_ Look into your heart, listen to her. We are bound mind, voice and heart.”

The abyss and dizziness vanished, and Angel let himself relax on the mattress. The owner of the voice, the _Lehaïr_ , came to sit by his side, well within his reach – a show of trust. Buffy sat down again as well. Angel could see other people in the background, a man and a young woman. He vaguely remembered knowing the man, Buffy’s... Guardian?

“The binding is no longer harmful, but you will know if Buffy or I are anything but truthful to you. I will release us once you give me permission,” Rowan said, took Buffy’s hand and laid it over Angel’s heart.

“Am I really here?” Angel asked covering Buffy’s hand with his own.

“Yes. You have been away less than a turn of the seasons. For you, it’s been longer. The rope holding you is for protecting yourself and the others. You’re on the way to recovery but it’ll be a long way.”

“You, A’Rowane. You’re truly one of the _Lehaïr_?”

“I am. The sealing of the Soft Places bound me in the Void for a long time, long enough for this to be a new world. This may not be easy for you to hear, but the Portal you opened was my path back to the world.”

“I don’t hold a grudge against you, _Lehaïr_. I was stupid and arrogant and got my just punishment. I lost the track of years long ago, but I feel they are somehow linked to my time without a soul.” Overcome with sudden emotion, Angel turned his face away.

“What is it?”

“I... I can no longer understand the language Buffy is speaking. I know I should. We were only permitted to talk to them in their disgusting cant. I learned this language in secret from fellow prisoners over the long years.”

“It will come back to you. Rest now and heal. You won’t be alone.”

There was a minute of silence and then Angel turned his eyes back to Rowan and looked deep into his. “I release you from the bond, _Lehaïr_ ,” Angel whispered before sleep took over him once again.

* * *

Buffy could no longer hold her emotions. She practically jumped at Rowan in her attempt to hug him. They fell to the floor next to Angel’s bed in an undignified heap. Buffy didn’t care and kept on whispering “Thank you” in Rowan’s ear as he struggled feebly underneath her.

“Buffy, _ooof_. You’re going to wake him up. The, _ufff_ , bond is still there.”

“I don’t care. I can never thank you enough. I know there won’t be any debts between us, but for this I’d happily be eternally indebted to you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Buffy. It’s obvious that you have been his only anchor to sanity through his years in the Lower realm.”

“He felt something... a twinge. What was that?”

“He has forgotten or suppressed his knowledge of English. He lamented that he couldn’t understand you anymore.”

Buffy felt a cold hand squeeze her heart. “Will he ever...?”

“I’m sure he will. You can help him there. Talk to him while he sleeps. Anything. Just let his subconscious do the work for him. He’ll be needing lots of rest in the following days.”

Buffy lay down next to her sleeping boyfriend and started whispering soft words in his ear while holding his hand in hers. She started by telling him of her inner turmoil after their swordfight, her running away. Soon the words lost their coherence and she just poured her mind and heart in Angel’s ear. The world outside the bed melted into a hazy background canvas until she also drifted to sleep.

* * *

“Ain’t gonna ask you again,” Faith said with absolute conviction, simultaneously slamming the vampire’s face against a tombstone. “Demon dealing in arcane books?”

The vampire’s eyes burned with hatred. “I don’t know...”

Knowing it was beyond the vampire’s abilities to lie with his nose grinding against stone, Faith grinned. She had had no idea that information-gathering could be so satisfying when Wilkins gave her this task in the morning. The evening’s tally so far was three vampires questioned and two piles of dust left behind. This one appeared to be just as clueless as her previous two victims. She knew that no run-of-the-mill vampire was willing to take her degree of interrogation to protect another demon. She staked the vampire and dusted off her hands.

She had so far covered Rosemount, Shady Hill and Two Pines cemeteries always approaching with her senses fully alert to warn her if Buffy was anywhere nearby. She understood the need to keep the Scoobies out of this deception with the Mayor to protect them, but it didn’t make the constant pangs in her conscience any easier to bear. She had no idea how her sister Slayer had taken or would take the news of her “defection”. Would she hate her or forgive her? Would she abandon her or keep up hope? To her Watcher’s thoughts she didn’t spare any thought.

Even though it had seemed quite clear to her why she agreed to this cloak-and-dagger thing when Rowan had laid out his plan, she still wondered where the conviction to follow his lead had originated. Sure, he had trusted her in the cave to help him. Sure, he had probably saved her life by taking out the swordsman vampire. Sure, he may or may not have somehow made Faith stop just in time to avoid her becoming a murderer; she still didn’t know where the signal to halt her arm had originated from. From herself? From Rowan? From some higher Power? She could feel some troublesome emotions raise their head somewhere inside. She quickly pushed them back behind the wall where they belonged. Better not to feel.

She started back for the City Hall. Nothing more to be done tonight.

* * *

Returning to the main hall where the two Watchers were standing, Rowan was surprised to see Gwen hesitantly approach him. He saw Rupert’s face show equal astonishment. Clearly this was something the Watcher had not shared with Rupert.

“I... I want to thank you for saving our... my life, Rowan,” Gwen said haltingly, not able to meet Rowan’s eyes. The shame was almost too much to bear. She needed to do this, so she forced it away. She made herself look into the eyes that had haunted her for so long. “I... I have a debt. Please help me meet it.”

Seeing the real pain and no deceit in Gwen’s eyes, Rowan turned to Giles. “Gwen and I need to have a private discussion. Would you please excuse us?”

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” Giles asked, frowning.

“I’ll keep watch over Angel and Buffy,” Rowan said giving Buffy a fond look. The Slayer was quietly whispering in Angel’s ear. “We’ll be fine.”

Giles nodded. “I’ll be back tomorrow with Willow, Xander and Oz,” he said simply and left.


	26. Chapter 26

‘ _Alright, let’s see your resolve_ ,’ Rowan thought and faced Gwen, who had not moved since acknowledging her debt. “Where shall we take this, Gwen? The garden, the bedroom or the library?”

Gwen drew a sharp breath at hearing her options. This was a test, each choice carrying a different overtone. It was so easy to... not believe _in_ Rowan. She still couldn’t quite make herself grasp what he really was, despite everything she had seen and heard these past months.

It had taken her rational mind forever to really accept that there were such things as demons, vampires and magic in the world; to accept that the everyday world was just a prop, a notion to hide the ugly and unforgiving reality from the “normal” people so that they could lead their unassuming lives protected and sheltered by those like her.

She had graduated top of her class from the Academy. She had known since starting there, and realizing she was better than her classmates, that she would be assigned an active Slayer before any of the others. Then she had gotten her chance with Faith.

She had done everything by the book, but reality soon slapped her in the face. The other side didn’t play by the book, a fact the Watcher training and manuals all too often failed to mention. Another deviance had been that it wasn’t just she and her Slayer, like it had been since the dawn of time and something she knew she could have controlled. Now there was another Slayer in town, a more experienced one than her Faith. She had met Kendra Young once; the Jamaican girl having been everything a perfect Slayer should be. Strong, methodological and, above all else, obedient. Faith had proven to be anything but obedient. She had blamed the older Slayer, she had blamed her Watcher and friends, and she had blamed Rowan – the last one having succeeded within one evening in what she had failed to accomplish since her arrival to Sunnydale. She had blamed everyone but herself. Now she had nothing left.

“The l-l-library,” she forced herself say, hating the insincerity in her voice.

“After you,” Rowan said courteously, letting Gwen face her disarrayed emotions with dignity.

* * *

Rowan arranged the two large armchairs in front of the library’s large fireplace and motioned for Gwen to sit. There was only one log of firewood in the basket next to the fireplace. He put it in and focused briefly on Fire. The log would burn until extinguished, giving light and warmth but not betraying their location by letting out smoke. He could have done the same with just the stones of the hearth but somehow a block of wood made it homelier and more comforting.

He remained crouching in front of the fireplace in silence for a minute. “You wish I’d never come to Sunnydale,” he finally said while watching the flames dance.

“I... I don’t know... It’s so difficult to...,” he heard Gwen’s stammering voice.

“There is a vengeance demon currently in Sunnydale. You could have your wish if you really wanted to.”

“I... I used to want that, but now...”

“Would you be more comfortable if I wore my glamour?” Rowan asked, standing up and facing the woman.

“No!” Gwen said louder than she had intended. Without a conscious thought, she had risen half-way up from the chair. “I... I mean, please don’t,” she continued lowering herself back in the luxurious chair. She realized she was breathing too rapidly and too shallow. With just a few sentences Rowan had again seized control of the situation from her.

Rowan also took a seat. “I’m listening, Gwen. Whatever you wish to get off your mind, I’m here. Everything will be just between you and me. I will know if Buffy comes near enough to hear us. Also, if you afterwards wish, I can make you believe this never happened.”

“You can do that?” Gwen burst out, forgetting her awkwardness.

“Yes.”

“How do you handle it, all that power?”

“How do you handle the power you wield?” Rowan countered. “You have power over Rupert, Buffy and Faith, yet you have treated them... decently. You could have really hidden Balthazar’s amulet from us and perhaps with time unlocked its powers or struck a bargain with its Master. You tried that as a desperate last attempt, but it was just to save your own life. I can’t really fault you for that.”

“But... but you could _seize_ power. You could _rule_.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Rowan asked with an amused smile on his lips.

“It’s in human nature to want more power,” Gwen said and immediately wanted to bite her tongue. She had forgotten, again.

“Gwen,” Rowan said gently. He had to make the woman see. “We are poles apart in _everything_. I have no wish to make you feel less than you are, but there is no way that you could ever, ever understand the real me. Rupert realizes that, Xander is wonderfully clueless, Willow is slowly getting around to the truth as her Witch powers grow and Buffy can relate through her Slayer self.”

“I see you left out Faith. I have been wondering...,” Gwen began. She suddenly realized she was feeling so much better than at any time since her arrival in Sunnydale. Since coming to Sunnydale, she had not had a single instance that she felt she could relate to someone she could respect. Ever since receiving her orders to monitor and evaluate Giles, she had dismissed him as someone inferior. Her jealousy had made her unable to see Rowan as anything but a threat, but now, she finally understood what a once-in-a-lifetime chance she had failed to embrace. Rupert had told her that, again and again, the last time having been just the other day before they were seized by Balthazar’s minions. Now, at last, she could appreciate what an excellent judge of character the former Watcher was.

“She is _the_ Slayer and as you know I’m connected to the Slayer line in more ways than one,” Rowan stated flatly. He raised his hand when Gwen opened her mouth. “I know what you’re after and I’ll save you the trouble of further innuendos. She is extremely gorgeous, and I will not deny being attracted to her, far beyond her being the Slayer. She is... away now. If she ever comes back, well, we’ll see what happens.”

“That’s the other thing I’ve been wondering about since Rupert told me about Faith this morning.”

“I will tell you this, Gwen,” Rowan said in his “command voice”. He saw Gwen flinch and lean back with her eyes wide. “I will not deny nor verify any knowledge regarding Faith’s current whereabouts. If you’re serious about being indebted to me, and I’m not sure if you’re aware of all the implications of such a vow, I’ll ask you to keep the faith, pun intended, regardless of what you have heard or may hear in the future. Rupert already told you his outlook regarding you and the Council. I could bind you to the debt you owe me, but I’d rather you made your own decision. Rupert can keep his illusion that he somehow controls you, but only you and I will ever know that you really intend to do that. Once this is all over, I’ll release you from your debt and see that Quentin Travers and the Council receive my version of your story. I only ask that you trust me regarding Faith, for now.”

Gwen felt elated, and afraid. She had always been attracted to power and those wielding it. Inside her haughty superiority was a deeply rooted need to be dominated by those more powerful than her. Now she was like a moth sitting next to a flame, a flame that was both beckoning and forbidding at the same time.

“You...,” Gwen started, keeping her eyes low. She felt her throat constrict painfully with fresh emotions. Tears misted her vision. “Do... do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you, Gwen,” came the soft reply. She heard the creak of springs then then a hand appeared in her blurry vision palm up. Gwen didn’t remember moving but suddenly she was in a warm embrace crying her eyes out against Rowan’s firm shoulder. Rowan didn’t offer any soothing words, no pats on the back. He just _was_ there for Gwen until her emotions ran out.

After she had exhausted her tears, Gwen stayed in that firm embrace. “You’re everything that I’m not,” she confessed with a whisper. “I’ve been so jealous of you.”

Gwen leaned back a little and for the first time really looked at Rowan in the eyes. The haunting feeling was gone. She hung her head. “I finally understand,” she said. She would have said more but suddenly her lips were seized in a forceful kiss. There was no question who was in control and Gwen submitted herself willingly. Then, like a flash, the dream from last night filled her mind and she realized that the tiles had turned completely and for real. She was on the right side of the divide she had not been able to comprehend in her dream, submitting to the one she had dismissed.

“Please, I want...,” Gwen whimpered into the kiss. “I dreamed about you last night.”

“I know what you want,” Rowan whispered a hair’s width separating their lips. “What do you _need_?”

“I need to feel. I’m so cold,” Gwen confessed. There was no way her words could be interpreted to mean the room temperature. Laying her head against Rowan’s chest, she continued. “What would you have done if I’d selected the... not selected the library?” Her slip made it fully clear what she meant.

Rowan was silent for a few seconds. “When you and Faith were in L.A. early December, William the Bloody paid a visit to Sunnydale.”

Gwen blinked her eyes a few times. What had Spike to do with anything? “Rupert told me,” Gwen said hesitantly.

“He was pining for Drusilla, his dark vampire princess. He was a total wreck and tried to ease his pain by attempting to get under my and Buffy’s skin through not so subtle insinuations. I challenged him by kissing him and telling him to remember it when he next saw Drusilla. Afterwards we had a fight with a group of vampires led by a former minion of his. Spike left Sunnydale after that with his head held high and a smile on his lips.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I gave him what he needed – a kick-start. The fight took care of the rest,” Rowan said. Then he cupped Gwen’s chin with his hand. “If you had selected the bedroom instead of the library, Gwen, I’d have dragged you there by the hair, tied you down and fucked you silly.”

Gwen’s legs felt weak at the evenly delivered promise. She was more aroused than she could ever remember being. The rough words were in such a contrast with Rowan’s beautiful face that she realized that, once again, she had totally forgotten who she was dealing with. It was so damn easy to forget that underneath that breath-taking exterior was an ancient spirit and not a human soul at all. She didn’t understand the Language of Legends beyond a few words, but she had recognized one Angel used – _Lehaïr._ The standard translation for the word was “Shining One”, both in singular and plural. It described a group of mythical demons who had been fighting on the side of good. Now she finally connected all the dots.

“You don’t understand me at all,” Rowan said and bit the pulse point in Gwen’s neck lightly.

“Please, I need you to make me feel,” Gwen moaned. “I want to have this memory if nothing else.”

“Would you do this if the price was not remembering it afterwards?” Rowan whispered while nibbling Gwen’s earlobe.

Gwen was again close to tears. “No more,” she begged. “Say it. Tell me to go away.”

Rowan unwrapped Gwen’s arms gently from around his waist and took a few steps back. “Go to the other bedroom, face the wall opposite the door and wait for me there.”

* * *

Gwen had been standing there, facing the cold stone wall for maybe five minutes when the bedroom door opened and closed behind her. She didn’t turn around and soon soft bare-footed steps approached her. A warm chest pressed against her back and she felt the touch of a jeans-covered crotch on her butt. Unhesitating arms reached around her, and she shuddered as her nipples were briefly squeezed over the clothes just forcefully enough to mix pain with pleasure. “You did well, Gwen,” Rowan’s voice said close to her ear sending a warm flush down her spine. “Your safe word is ‘Selenia’. Anything I should know about? Limits?”

“I trust you,” she said huskily now that she knew the deal.

“Do you want to keep facing the wall or would you rather look at me?”

“Oh God, please. I want to see you.”

“Then turn around.”

Gwen was breathing heavily as she slowly turned around. Rowan was standing maybe five feet away from her clad only in his tight black jeans. Having lost his shirt, Gwen couldn’t help but turn her gaze down to his narrow waist and the long and slim legs which were further exaggerated by his low-cut pants. He had tied a band around his head to hold his hair back, but narrow strands of black hair still escaped the confines and hung in front of his face.

“You... you’re...,” Gwen breathed and took an involuntary step forward.

“None of that, Gwen, yet,” Rowan said with a smirk. “You didn’t mention any specific limits, so...”.

Invisible strands grabbed Gwen’s wrists and pulled them up, high enough that she couldn’t lower her heels to the ground. Her heart thudded in her chest. This was what she had meant when she had talked about seizing power. This was total control.

“I don’t hear the safe word, so you seem to be ok with this,” Rowan said.

Gwen had just managed to breathe a husky “yes” when her legs were pulled apart at the ankles by maybe three feet by identical invisible strands.

“Have you ever listened to Buffy and Faith when they are Slaying together?” Rowan asked, moving closer to Gwen. He started unbuttoning her blouse unhurriedly. “That’s basically the only time they can be honest with each other; while they are beating vampires or demons to a pulp or being in the receiving end of a beating themselves.”

“You and Faith,” Gwen suddenly remembered and felt panic taking over her. She felt the front clasp of her bra being unhooked.

“Don’t go there,” Rowan said gently and gave Gwen’s bare nipples a hard twist. “I’m here for you.”

The sharp pain brought Gwen back to the here and now and she once again felt a soothing calmness take over her. This felt so right. “Please, keep talking while you...”

“While I what, Gwen?” Rowan asked, stepping into her personal space. He unfastened the narrow belt of Gwen’s grey skirt.

“P-p-punish me,” Gwen said hoarsely as her skirt’s zipper was slowly pulled down and the garment slid down along her legs. Her panties were soaked with her arousal and she could feel fresh beads leaking constantly from her.

“Is that how you see this?” Rowan asked quietly, looking deep into Gwen’s eyes. “Why do you feel you need to be punished?”

“For being a coward!” Gwen shouted out, feeling that gaze touch something deep inside; something that had been buried for a long time. She felt like a black cloud had been expelled from her lungs with the words. She was left with her mouth hanging open and her eyes staring straight ahead as the truth hit her like a freight train. Images flashed through her mind, all her dark secrets, the false face she had worn, all the feelings she had hidden away.

“Thank you, Gwen, thank you,” Rowan said, gently caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

The bonds holding her vanished and she was swept into strong arms. Her loosened skirt fell to the floor. Still in a haze, she wrapped her arms around Rowan’s neck, tucked her head under his chin and snuggled in closer. Almost immediately she was laid gently down on the bed. Her arms and legs stung a little; it was easy to tolerate.

Gwen opened her eyes slowly half-way and saw Rowan standing by the side of the bed. His hands were on the buttons of his jeans. “Please, let me,” Gwen whispered. “I want...”

“You got what you needed,” Rowan said nodding. “Now it’s time for want.”

The tight black jeans came down and Gwen’s pulse quickened when she saw how ready Rowan was for her. She pulled down her panties, opened her arms and welcomed him to take her. She was no virgin by any means, but all her previous lovers had left her more or less unsatisfied. She knew this time would be different. Having gotten all the foreplay she could handle, she wantonly spread her legs, drew her knees back and guided Rowan inside her.

Having been on the edge for so long, Gwen came immediately when Rowan hit bottom. Taking Rowan’s face in her hands she forced his lips open with her tongue and screamed his name in his mouth. After her orgasm faded, Rowan continued with a gentle rhythm. The time for dominance and submission was over, now it was time for mutual pleasure.

Gwen was tight but her extended arousal made moving in and out of her easy. Rowan knew she couldn’t handle a Melding so he held himself back; the tune of his _Lehaïr_ spirit being pitched much higher than a normal human could bear. But holding back on the spirit level didn’t lessen the physical pleasure any. Gwen was eager, her trained body responsive, her pelvic muscles well-exercised. Spasms around his hard member soon signalled that Gwen was close to coming again. He increased the tempo, fully enjoying the feeling of Gwen’s velvety insides welcoming each long slide.

Coming down from her second orgasm, Gwen was panting like a long-distance runner. She was soon getting close to the edge again but then Rowan slowed down. Once she was no longer on the absolute edge, the relentless stimulation intensified again. This went on for several beautifully agonizing minutes until Gwen felt like she would burst unless Rowan made her come again. “Please, Rowan,” she whispered. “I want to come with you. I need to. I’m so close. Can you feel it?” She had never been this bold in bed before but now the words flowed freely from her mouth. “So close. I’m going to come for you. Oh, God, I’m coming. Come with me.” Feeling her final restraints crumble, she crossed her ankles behind Rowan’s back, threw her head back and concentrated all her senses to her spasming pussy. She wanted to remember this, to be able to relive this. She surrendered completely as she felt stream after stream of hot semen shoot from Rowan’s throbbing cock against her cervix, past the pulsating walls of her vagina. She came for the third time, the longest of them all, and then blackness engulfed her.


	27. Chapter 27

Gwen woke up with a gasp. She felt disoriented and couldn’t immediately recognize her surroundings. Then everything came back to her with a rush. Her eyes filled with tears; she could remember it all. She found herself tucked in warmly, under covers, naked. There was a fresh bath robe folded neatly on the chair next to the bed.

She put on the robe and went to the window feeling... good. Thoughts of Rowan filled her mind, but they were feelings of fondness, warmth. The nagging jealousy was gone and replaced by a profound respect.

She made her way to the main area of the mansion and saw Rowan come in through the garden doors holding a newspaper in his hand. Through the door to the other bedroom she could see Buffy speaking quietly to Angel, like to a child. She didn’t quite know how to react to the fact that Angelus, who had been so prominently portrayed in the Watcher literature, was sitting there in the next room, apparently quite at ease. Rupert had told her about Buffy’s relationship with Angelus / Angel, but still, seeing him there in real life was a weird experience.

On seeing her, Rowan gave her a radiant smile. “Gwen, you seem to be feeling much better.”

“Yes, thank you, Rowan. You really have a way with words. You should consider opening a practice.”

“Anything for a friend, Gwen.”

‘ _Friend_.’ The word made Gwen stop in her tracks. Then she realized that she was feeling exactly that. No lust, no regrets, just a happy glow.

She went to the door of the other bedroom and faced the pair who were now watching her with interest. “Good morning, Buffy. Would you introduce us properly?” she said, indicating Angel.

“What?” Buffy asked with her mouth hanging open. Gwen couldn’t help but smile. The expression on the Slayer’s face was priceless. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Buffy continued, sounding suspicious.

“I think I’m feeling better than for a long time, Buffy. Having Rowan talk to me really opened my eyes to see how badly I’ve behaved towards all of you, how I’ve behaved towards _you_. I’m sorry, Buffy. And please accept my sincere thanks for saving my life.”

Buffy looked at Gwen for a long time, searching for any hints of insincerity. Then she turned to Rowan who she saw had come to stand behind Gwen. “Could you please...?”

Immediately understanding, Rowan entered the room. “Angel, this is Gwendolyn Post, Guardian to Buffy and Faith. Faith was called after Kendra was killed by Drusilla.” He nodded to Buffy who continued. “Gwen, this is Angel. You know him as Angelus, but he has a soul now.” She had basically understood by the multitude of names in Rowan’s address what he had said.

Neither the vampire nor the Watcher offered to shake hands, but they nodded to each other in mutual understanding. Then Gwen turned back to Rowan. “I need stop by my apartment and then talk to Rupert about Faith. We’ll be back later.”

* * *

After Gwen had left, Buffy came to sit on the couch opposite Rowan. Angel had drifted back to sleep.

“What did you two talk about? She seems like a new person,” Buffy asked.

“Well, she did undergo a hugely traumatic episode in the warehouse,” Rowan explained. “Those can be life-altering in and of themselves. But most of what she told me was about how alienated she’d felt here in Sunnydale. She had been jealous of how easily I was accepted by you and the others, but she wasn’t. There was also the fact that she had been sent here to basically spy on Rupert and you and it ate her up. She couldn’t approach Rupert, whom she considered her inferior and she also had to show a hard façade to you and Faith. Finally, she needed to admit, to herself, that she had acted cowardly and un-watcher-like in the whole Balthazar business.”

“Wow! She told you all that?” Buffy asked being both astounded and impressed.

“I can be quite persuasive.”

Rowan’s final comment tugged something in Buffy’s mind, something to do with Faith as well. She shook her head to clear it and took up the subject which was really on her mind. “Faith. What really happened there before I came in?”

“She was assaulted by two of those swords-vampires. She was barely holding her own and didn’t see another approaching. I took care of the third one and then beheaded the one threatening her back. It was the third one’s sword you saw me with. Then Faith staked the final one. The man was hiding behind the dumpsters you saw, and I threw him in front of Faith. She swung her stake instinctively before I was ready.”

“So, it was an accident,” Buffy said with relief.

“Yes, but Faith seemed almost detached from herself in the aftermath. She only ran off when she saw and heard you.”

Buffy felt a terrible sadness engulf her. “So, she has run away, again. She ran from Kakistos and now she has run away from this. Why didn’t she trust us? Why didn’t she trust _me_?”

“Have you ever mentioned ‘trust’ to Faith, Buffy?”

Buffy was taken slightly aback. “No, I...”

“I have. She instantly shuts down when you ask for her trust. I don’t know much about her personal history before she was Called, but as you, her sister Slayer, have most likely noticed, it’s clear she has deep issues regarding letting people in.”

“‘Get some, get gone’,” Buffy muttered.

“That’s part of it,” Rowan nodded. “She is more like Gwen than anyone probably realizes. Feelings of inadequacy, being an outsider in a tightly-knit company, a more experienced colleague already in an established position.”

“Now that you lay it open like that...,” Buffy started, feeling ashamed. She had been jealous of Faith for the attention her friends had given the new Slayer on her arrival. She had first seen Faith only as a convenient backup for her, a way out. But things had progressed since then. They had taken Faith in as a Scooby, didn’t they? They must have. Had she ever asked Faith how she was really doing? Not just the usual “You ok? / five by five” dialogue. She must have. Then she suddenly remembered something more pressing and pushed her uneasy thoughts to the background. “Has there been anything in the news?”

To her surprise Rowan grinned like schoolboy and tossed her the newspaper. “Take a look.”

Buffy drew a shocked breath as she read the headline announcing that the Deputy Mayor of Sunnydale had been killed. Reading further, the article said that the Deputy Mayor of Sunnydale, Allan Finch, had been killed by an escaped lunatic. Said lunatic had been subsequently killed by the SPD while attempting to assault an officer with a sharp stick of wood. The rest was just noise detailing the public life of the late Allan Finch and a statement from the Mayor praising his deputy’s dedication to serve the public trust of the people of Sunnydale.

“It was this Deputy Mayor that Faith killed?” Buffy whispered.

“The name on his driver’s license matches the one mentioned in the article.”

“Then why are you being so flippant about it?” Buffy demanded, getting angry. “Faith killed someone, accident or not. She killed a human – someone she should have been protecting. Oh, I forgot. Human lives obviously don’t matter that much to you, thanks to you not being one.”

“Peace, Buffy,” Rowan said extending his arms towards the Slayer, palms up. “I’m not downplaying the importance of this incident at all. I’m just looking at it from a different perspective. You and Faith risk your lives every night to protect the people of Sunnydale. It’s like you’re constantly walking on a razor’s edge. Accidents will and do happen and I’m sorry it had to be like this. But think of all the people you two have saved during your time as Slayers. Any needlessly lost life is a waste but sometimes you have to think of the greater good.”

“I still don’t see the humour in this,” Buffy muttered but sounded mollified.

“You would if you allowed yourself to see the bigger picture. It seems to be in someone’s interests to keep our involvement out of the public’s view. On the other hand, this article can also be read as a warning to us that they _know_. The article mentions a stake. To those in the know that means Slayer involvement.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Angel started twisting and growling in the other room. Buffy was instantly by his side holding his hand and murmuring soft words in his ear. The vampire relaxed almost immediately but Buffy didn’t leave his side. Rowan waited for a while if Buffy wanted to return to the topic of Faith but when that didn’t happen, he closed his eyes and cleared his mind with a few controlled breaths. It was time for some deep thinking.

Ten minutes later he heard Buffy leave for school.

* * *

Buffy had visited Faith’s apartment building on her way to patrol. She still hoped that Faith hadn’t skipped town altogether, but the apartment looked empty from the outside and, what’s more, it felt empty. There was not even a faint feeling that Faith was nearby. She knocked on Gwen’s door as well, but the Watcher had apparently left earlier.

Scooping the Sunnydale, Restfield and Wilkinson Memorial cemeteries she made her way back to the mansion, making a stop at the butcher shop to get fresh blood for Angel. Beside her odd encounter with a weird book sales-demon, the evening had been singularly uneventful.

Rowan was there, of course, talking quietly with Angel in the bedroom. Giles and Gwen were having another quiet conversation in the main hall. With her Slayer hearing she could tell that Willow, Xander and Oz were in the large kitchen. The heavenly smell of pizza greeted her nostrils as she approached the dining hall.

* * *

The whole gang, except Angel, gathered in the dining hall. Except for Rowan and Giles, everyone was surprised when Gwen remained standing while the rest seated themselves. “I have given you all little reason to like me,” she addressed them collectively. “The events leading up to the fight with Balthazar were really the low point in my life and Watcher career so far. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but please know, that I’m truly sorry, for everything. I want to thank Rowan for screwing my head up straight after the fight. You’re a true friend and I’m proud to be able to call you that. Finally, I want to thank Rupert for deciding that I deserve a second chance. Thank you, Rupert.” With that said, Gwen sat down to a tumultuous silence.

“Well, that’s it then,” Xander finally interrupted the silence. “Anyone else want to go outside and see if we can spot any pigs on the wing?”


	28. Chapter 28

It wasn’t until she had cleared the railroad tracks that Faith realized where she was, the warehouse district. Without thinking she made her way to the alley where the fight with the Eliminati had taken place just two nights before. Naturally, the place had been cleaned up since then; only the police tape around the dumpsters gave evidence that anything out of the ordinary had recently happened there. She sat down on one of the dumpsters behind which the Deputy Mayor had been hiding.

_“Now, Faith, listen carefully. We don’t have much time.”_

_“What exactly happened here?”_

_“Apparently the Mayor put a curse on Mr Finch; one that would trigger if the Deputy Mayor attempted to betray his boss’ secrets. I managed to give him enough extra time to reveal the Mayor’s plan.”_

_“It’s this ‘Ascension’ thing, right? That really freaked you out.”_

_“Yes, an Ascension is a long and incredibly complex process through which someone becomes the embodiment of a pure-breed demon; not some weak hybrid breed like basically all the demons currently roaming the Earth are. You heard Mr Finch say that the Mayor is not fully human anymore. That means he has been working his way to the Ascension for several decades for it to be noticeable by someone like the Deputy Mayor. It also means that he is very close to achieving his goal.”_

_“So what? One more demon for us to take care of. Big deal.”_

_“You don’t understand, Faith. The demon one can become the embodiment of through Ascension – Lohesh, Olvikan and several others – is huge when fully formed and I mean that literally; basically, an Old One reborn. The largest warehouse here would look like a dollhouse in comparison. A recently transformed demon’s first impulse is to eat and grow, and the whole populace of Sunnydale might just be enough to satisfy its constantly gnawing hunger.”_

_“We’re so fucked.”_

_“Not yet. Each of these demons has a weakness. Maybe it was the Powers who left a chance, a hope, for the people of an Ascension site to prove and redeem themselves. We need to find out which method the Mayor has been using and thus identify the demon he’s attempting to become. This is where you come in.”_

_“You want me to spy on him.”_

_“Not quite. I’m asking you to help him.”_

Faith was shaken out of the memory by the whistle of a slowly moving freight-train. The shrill voice made her suddenly aware of her Slayer sense tingling faintly. A vampire was nearby. She jumped back to her feet and continued farther inside the warren of industrial buildings. The tingle stayed constantly faint; the vampire was following her. Hiding in a shallow cranny she waited for her shadow to show up. Sure enough, less than half-a-minute later a smartly dressed vampire passed her looking quizzically around. Faith jumped him and pushed him roughly against the wall of the building. “I don’t suppose you know anything about a demon and some books?” she growled in his ear.

“No! I was sent by...” This was as far as he managed to go until Faith’s stake pierced his heart. She had been standing too close and the dust from the disintegrating vampire covered her from head to toe. She sneezed and coughed from the foul-tasting filth. ‘ _Damn, I need a drink_ ,’ she thought, scraping her tongue with her teeth. Then it hit her. Willy’s was just on the other side of the area. Then it hit her harder. ‘ _Why didn’t I think of Willy the Snitch sooner_.’

* * *

“So, how was patrol this evening, Buffy?” Giles asked when the pizza boxes around the table were starting to get empty.

“Quiet. Oh, a demon offered to sell me some books.”

“That’s kind of unusual,” Giles said taking a sip of water. “What happened?”

Buffy shrugged. “I cleared a small nest in a family crypt at Restfield; only three vampires in residence when I went in. Then this demon sorta pops up from behind a large tombstone. I was just about to behead him when he squealed kind of pitifully and held up his hands. He said he’d been looking for me.”

“What did he look like, Buffy?” Willow asked. “Did you recognize what kind he was?”

“Yes, Will. One of the horny kinds.” She was left with her mouth hanging open and her face reddening to beet colour when the entire table burst out in laughter. Xander was also closing in on beet-like colour and Oz was pounding him on the back until a slice of salami shot out from his mouth and landed in the middle of the table.

“I meant the demon had horns on his head and a really bad beard,” Buffy continued quietly, refusing to look up from her plate. “He wanted to sell me some books.”

“An encyclopaedia salesman?” Xander asked, having regained his breath. “I don’t know how it is in the demon world, but didn’t the Internet kinda obsolete them?”

“Yes, Xand! He wanted to sell me the A-Z of Encyclopaedia Daemonica, 1998 edition.” Buffy threw up her hands. “Welcome to ‘Late Night with Buffy Summers’. Maybe you should just let me finish.” She threw a narrow-eyed look around the table to see if anyone wanted to comment further. No-one did. “He said he’d sell me something called ‘The Books of Ascension’ for $5,000.”

That was when Rowan bit himself in the tongue for not realizing sooner that coincidences rarely happened in a Soft Place. An Ascension was a major phenomenon and there were always... sides moving and participating when an event of such a magnitude was about to take place. He and Faith had heard about the Ascension from Finch, Balthazar had hinted at it and now a random demon approaches a Slayer with an offer to sell her one of the items the Mayor definitely wouldn’t want them to have. This would have to be handled delicately to avoid implicating Faith.

“And you say this demon wanted cash.” Gwen said quietly as if thinking to herself. “That’s very unusual.”

“Demons after money,” Giles said in mock distaste. “What happened to the still-beating heart of a virgin. No one has any standards anymore.”

“Did he mention anything else?” Gwen asked.

It was still hard for Buffy to keep sarcasm out of her voice when answering to Gwen, but the Watcher’s tone was genuinely interested. “Only that the books were worth the price and that there were other parties who would be interested if I wasn’t.”

This was the opening Rowan had been waiting for. “You’re right, Buffy. And we knew that already.”

“We did?” Buffy asked in astonishment.

“Yes, remember Balthazar’s final words? ‘ _When_ he _rises, you’ll wish I’d killed you all._ ’ Then there was the fabricated news article regarding the Deputy Mayor.”

“The Mayor? Of Sunnydale?” Buffy said in disbelief. Rowan sighed inwardly in relief. The cat was out of the bag. It was only a matter of time now.

“You think these ‘rising’ and ‘ascension’ are related?” Gwen asked. Rowan nodded.

“Ascension, ascension,” Giles muttered while cleaning his glasses. “Not really a common term in demonology.” He turned to look at Gwen who just shook her head.

“We’ll hit the books,” Willow said, with Xander and Oz nodding in agreement. “I’ll investigate the Mayor angle as well.” Rowan could have kissed Willow upon hearing those words.

“I’ll try to find this bookseller again,” Buffy said.

“I think I’ll join you,” Rowan said.

“Now I think it’s time for our high schoolers to head home for the night,” Giles said. “And that means you too, Buffy.”

There was a general murmur of agreement which signalled the end to the discussion and dinner.

Buffy was sitting by the sleeping Angel when Rowan came to stand beside her. “Go on, Buffy, and get a good night’s sleep. Come back tomorrow after school and we’ll start hunting for this book-selling demon.”

“I... I want to...,” she started but then realized that by staying here she would just wake up every time Angel twitched or turned. She really needed an uninterrupted night’s sleep. She stood up and then, on impulse, gave Rowan’s cheek a light kiss. Then she ran out of the mansion to the car Giles had just started.

* * *

Faith opened the unmarked door with a force that almost tore it off its hinges. She stood there, framed by the doorway for a few seconds and then strutted inside with a purposeful step.

“Well, if it isn’t the _Slayer_ who graces my humble establishment with her presence,” Willy said loudly enough to be heard all over the bar over the gloomy music.

There were sudden sounds of chairs and tables being hurriedly pushed aside as the patrons scrambled to safety through the back door.

Willy glared in her general direction. “You’re bad for business.”

“Didn’t kill any of your customers,” Faith responded. “They’ll be back.”

Willy was a small, twitchy man who, after failing time after time in the bar business all over California, had finally found his niche in Sunnydale by keeping the busiest demon bar in town; also, really, the only demon bar in town. The bar was so lacking in style that it was sort of stylish just by omission. It had a mix of crappy decors; no two chairs were exactly alike, and it was just better hope that the sticky unknown substances covering most of the floor were just beer and other bar-related elements.

It was also basically the only place in Sunnydale that would serve Faith whatever she wanted.

“What do you want, Faith?” Willy asked warily.

“Info, for now. Heard there’s a demon in town selling some books.”

“Never heard of it,” Willy replied, too quickly.

The stake that smashed the bottle behind Willy had just nicked his ear. The whooshing sound it made as it passed his large hearing organ had been far more terrifying than the small sting of pain. He had not even seen Faith move.

Faith grabbed Willy’s shirt almost idly. “Next time I’ll throw something heavier. How much do you think it’ll cost to restock?”

“Ok, ok,” Willy squealed holding his hands up. “Maybe I heard of a Skylar demon who might have something of the literary variety for sale.”

Faith lifted him off the floor. “Not for sure, I swear. It’s possible that something about an abandoned house past the Two Pines cemetery may have been mentioned in passing.”

She loosened her grip and Willy’s feet thumped back on the floor. She was actually enjoying herself. It was like those movies with bad cops and... “Willy, think I’ll have a drink now. Gimme one of those $50 whiskey shots.”

“But we don’t... Oh!”

Faith pulled a $50 bill out of her pocket while Willy poured her a perfectly standard double-measure of JD.

“Look, Faith. I got a reputation to maintain. Could you just... owww!” The last came out after Faith’s fist had connected with his beaky nose. “You could have warned me,” Willy whined, holding a towel against his bleeding nose.

“Hurts less this way,” Faith said and emptied her glass. “See ya.” This was _fun_!


	29. Chapter 29

“Of course, 'The Merenshtadt Text',” Willow said, snapping her head up from the text she was reading. “I should have remembered it sooner.”

“I was just about to say that, you know. Damn,” Xander said, leaning back in his chair.

“What did you remember?” Oz asked.

“I think in the section on genocide they mention ascension.”

Oz pushed aside the book he had been reading. “Do we have it here?”

“Yes, Giles keeps it in the top of his book cabinet, with the other stuff he tries to keep hidden.”

“I’ll get it,” Oz said leaping up from his chair.

“He keeps the key taped under his desk,” Willow called helpfully after her boyfriend.

“Hidden?” Xander’s interest peaked. “Are there any engravings I should know about? Frolicking nymphs of some kind?”

“No, just magical secrets Giles doesn’t think I’m ready for.”

“Here it is,” Oz said, brandishing a leather-bound volume.

They waited in silence as Willow searched for the correct entry. “There’s a reference here to the journal of one Desmond Kane, pastor of a town called Sharpsville.”

_May 26, 1723._

_Tomorrow is the Ascension. God help us all._

“That was the last anyone heard,” Willow continued.

“Of Kane?” Xander asked.

“Of Sharpsville. The town more or less disappeared.”

Xander pursed his lips together. “So, Ascension possibly not a love-in.”

* * *

“I guess it’s safe to say our guy is a no-show,” Buffy said after she and Rowan had stayed for an hour near the place where she met the demon the night before.

“Agreed. Maybe we should take a more active approach?” Rowan suggested. He didn’t want to start ordering the Slayer around.

“How? By wearing signs saying ‘Willing to buy arcane books. Make an offer.’?”

“Willy’s?”

Buffy almost collided with a tombstone. “How do you know of the place?”

“I’ve visited it a few times.”

“And it’s still there? Astounding,” Buffy said sarcastically, knowing Rowan’s views on the class of demons that usually hung about the place.

“You hurt my feelings, Buffy,” Rowan responded lightly. “I know the importance of a neutral ground for gathering and sharing information. I did receive the first news of Balthazar’s return there.”

“Let’s go.”

* * *

Faith had been watching the two-story house for an hour without there having been any activity outside or inside. Her Slayer sense tingled faintly but constantly, which meant that someone of the demonic persuasion was definitely in residence.

She approached the building in silence, finally crouching down underneath a window. A hint of light leaked out from beneath the tightly closed curtains. She could hear faint music playing inside – some opera aria.

A tour around the house revealed that there was only one door, the front one. She didn’t know the layout of the house or whether there might be any escape routes in the cellar or anywhere else. Forcing herself in was therefore out of the question. She needed to catch the demon totally unawares.

Looking up, Faith noticed that one of the windows on the second floor was slightly ajar. Jumping up, she caught hold of the windowsill. Opening the window fully, she crept quietly inside. The room smelled of decay and the few scant items of furniture were badly broken. The door to the hallway was open and she could see faint light coming from the stairway there.

Using her Slayer stealth, Faith made it downstairs without making a sound. She went to the door beyond which the music was playing. The doorknob turned easily with no sound and Faith stepped quickly inside.

A wrinkly, horned demon was sitting at a table with a large book open before him. She had never before seen a Skylar demon, but she was sure she had found her prey. The demon never lifted his gaze from the book as Faith quietly closed the door behind her.

“Hey,” she said simply.

The demon sprang to his feet like a jack-in-the-box. “Who are you?”

“The name’s Faith. Heard you got some books for sale.”

The demon examined her closely. “’The Books of Ascension’? Why didn’t the other one come? The one I talked to yesterday in the cemetery.”

“Buffy?” Faith asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.

“That’s the one, the Slayer.”

Faith’s eyes hardened at the comment and she quietly followed the demon to a couch on which several stacks of books were piled.

“Didn’t realize there were more than one Slayer in town, heh. Do you have the money?”

Did the demon really expect her to pay for some mouldy books? While the demon was looking for the correct set of tomes, Faith moved closer in and snatched a stake from inside her jacket. She continued talking to keep the demon distracted. “How much was it again? B... Buffy was kinda vague about the agreed price.”

“Five thousand,” the demon said, tucking a set of five books into a thick satchel. “You can get the satchel for free,” he continued and turned around – right into the forward moving stake in Faith’s hand.

He managed to seek Faith’s eyes with a last surprised look and grab her jacket before he fell to the floor, dead.

* * *

Buffy opened the non-descript door of Willy’s bar quietly. She squinted in the gloom, taking a few moments to soak in the atmosphere.

“Slayer,” Willy said loudly. “You guys really need to start booking in advance.”

There was the familiar scraping of stools, chairs and tables. Buffy held out her hand. “I’m off-duty.”

It took a while for the tension in the bar to subside, but soon the multi-language conversations resumed all around, if a little more muted than before. In the confusion, Rowan was able to slip in unnoticed by anyone except, of course, Willy. He had always worn his glamour and kept his aura muted when visiting Willy’s; no need to advertise his presence needlessly. He was fairly certain that Willy knew more about him than the barkeep let on, though, especially after what had happened during his last visit there. Willy was extremely perceptive for a human – a trait which made him such a good bartender. But, for now, they would stick to the semi-official cluelessness.

“Here, on the house,” Willy said jovially and poured Rowan a shot of calvados, his favourite.

“What’s this?” Buffy asked suspiciously, coming to lean on the bar. To her knowledge Willy never voluntarily served anyone “on the house”.

“I helped Willy with a little problem when I was here last,” Rowan said with an even face, warming the tulip-shaped snifter in his hand and swirling the mahogany liquid inside.

Buffy glanced at the bottle Willy had poured from. It looked expensive. “How little?”

“Not that little,” Rowan said with a wink, sniffing the glass.

Buffy decided to let it slip. It resonated with so many possibilities that she didn’t really want to know. Besides, most likely, it didn’t have anything to do with tonight’s business. “So, Willy, what do you know about a demon offering to sell a set of ‘The Books of Ascension’?”

The look on Willy’s face was something Buffy had never seen before. “Is this part of some slayer game, Slayer?” he asked suspiciously.

Buffy was at a total loss and fell back to babbling. “Huh? What? Did I say ‘huh’ already?”

“The other one, Faith, the Mayor’s new pet Slayer came here yesterday and asked the same damn question. That’s what.”

If not for Rowan’s lightning reflexes, Buffy would have collapsed to the floor. Just as the Slayer’s knees buckled, a bar stool was suddenly under her butt. “Willy, better pour her one as well,” Buffy heard Rowan’s voice say as if from a great distance.

* * *

“I don’t understand,” Buffy said in a weak voice after Rowan had forced some whiskey down her throat.

“It’s kind of obvious. She probably heard the real story about the Deputy Mayor somewhere, like here for example, before the fabricated news broke out. She might have been really confused and thought that the Mayor would be the only one who could protect her.”

“But why is she still there? The police aren’t looking for her.”

“Maybe she got a better deal than the Council is willing to offer her.”

Buffy almost slapped Rowan for his blunt comment. “There’s no deal! She is a Slayer with a... a destiny. She belongs with... with us.”

“You walked away once yourself, Buffy,” Rowan reminded her. “Don’t act so holier than thou.”

Losing her temper, Buffy flung the contents of her glass in Rowan’s face and stormed out.

Rowan wiped his face with a towel Willy gave him. It was better to have Buffy angry at him and ready for action than have her mope and maybe drown her sorrows here at Willy’s. As he was getting ready to leave himself, there was a cruel laughter from somewhere behind him. Turning around he saw a drunken vampire leer at him from a table. “Did the big baaad Slayer dump you, boy? She’s gone now and you’re here aaalll alone.”

To the vampire’s surprise the few regulars near his table quietly took their drinks and moved farther away, leaving him inside an empty circle. “I don’t want any trouble,” Willy said anxiously. “Please, don’t start anything.”

“Just gonna teach the boy a lesson about hanging with Slayers,” the vampire said, standing up.

“Excuse me?” Willy asked with a raised eyebrow. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Just give me what we need to know, Willy, and I’ll be gone,” Rowan said.

When Rowan got out of the bar, he saw Buffy some distance away giving a random vampire a thorough beating. He walked slowly to the site and waited patiently for Buffy to finish. “I’m not really in the mood to talk to you right now,” the Slayer said tightly as the cloud of dust fell to the ground.

“There will be a vampire following me out of Willy’s shortly,” Rowan said, walking past Buffy. “He made some nasty comments about the company you keep. By the way, our mysterious bookseller’s hideout is near Two Pines. Take your time, I’ll go ahead.”

When Buffy finally joined him, Rowan was leaning his shoulder against a tree and watching the houses near the Two Pines cemetery.

“I really hate you sometimes,” Buffy said trying, unsuccessfully, to sound angry. “But you were right about that vampire. Don’t expect any thanks, though. I’m still pissed at you.”

“I think I can live with that. What does your Slayer sense tell you?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing.”

“Let’s take a closer look. The house slightly farther away from the others seems abandoned.”

Inside the house it was clear that the Skylar demon had been killed by a stake through the heart, and quite recently; most likely earlier in the evening.

“Faith,” Buffy said quietly. “I guess I didn’t want to believe it until now, but this definitely proves she is working for the Mayor.” She turned to Rowan. “I’ve got to see her.”

“Better book an appointment.”

* * *

Switching the satchel’s strap from one shoulder to the other, Faith opened the City Hall doors. Smiling at Joan, she made her way to the second floor where the Mayor’s office was located. His secretary, Nathalie, greeted her warmly and waved her in.

“Mornin’, Boss,” she said, not having to fake the brightness in her voice.

“Faith! You’re a welcome sight for sore eyes,” Wilkins said with what sounded like genuine delight, looking up from the paperwork he had been browsing. “You seem to be in a good mood today.”

“Just wanted to report in on the investigation. I know you said you didn’t want details while the work was under way, but...”

“Nonsense, Faith. I’m glad you decided to come. Can I get you anything? Water? Milk? Sugar-free orange juice?”

Faith shook her head. “I found your demon, Boss.”

“But that’s excellent,” Wilkins said, leaning back in his chair. “I knew I made the right decision when I assigned the job to you. How much is the demon asking for the books? I don’t imagine it would be willing to give them to me as a belated Christmas gift.”

“Well, the starting price was $5,000.” Seeing the hard look on the Mayor’s face she lifted the heavy satchel on the desk. “But he couldn’t refuse the once-in-a-lifetime offer I made him. Merry Christmas, Boss.”

Eyes widening with hopeful anticipation, Wilkins opened the satchel. “My books!” he exclaimed and pulled out the first volume. “You wonderful girl, you magnificent Slayer. Do you have any idea what you have done for me?”

“It wasn’t that much, Boss,” Faith said, feeling a little embarrassed. She wasn’t used to such lavish compliments, least of all from someone who was supposed to be “the bad guy”.

“Not that much?” Wilkins asked incredulously. He stood up and stepped around the desk. He laid his hands on Faith’s shoulders. “Faith, I sent you out to gather information and you completed the full mission on your own initiative. None of my people were able to complete in a week even a small part of what you did in a just a few days. You found the demon and convinced him to give the books to you. Mission accomplished.”

Her good mood suddenly drained away as fresh guilt flooded in. “I didn’t convince him. I killed him.”

A hand suddenly cupped her chin and lifted it up, forcing Faith to look Wilkins in the eyes. His hand felt too warm, almost feverish. Faith had to fight to suppress an involuntary shudder. “My dear Faith. How many demons have you killed as a Slayer? A hundred? Two hundred? What’s one more added to that long list?”

“I dunno. I could have just taken the books,” Faith admitted. “There’s no way he could have stopped me. He was no threat and I killed him.” The guy was just so damn convincing. No one had ever taken such an interest in her.

“Faith, with this deed you proved your worth to me beyond any doubt.” Having said that, Wilkins let go of Faith’s chin and returned to his chair. He opened one of the desk drawers and took out a small cardboard box. “This is for you.”

Inside was a key and a piece of paper listing an address. “Your new home. I’m sorry I won’t be able to join you for a grand tour and witness the look on your face when you see the place. Take the rest of the week off and enjoy yourself. I really hadn’t expected you to complete the Book mission this fast, so I don’t have anything new planned for you yet. Your new apartment has a phone line and an answering machine. I’ll call you when I need you.”

“When you need me, huh?” Faith purred licking her lower lip. She knew this game, and if that’s what it took... She stood up and circled around the desk. She hopped to sit on the desk in front of the Mayor with her legs crossed. Laying her hands flat on the desk behind her, she leaned back on straight arms. “Gonna call me this evening, Sugar Daddy?”

“Now, Faith,” Wilkins said sternly. “I don’t find that sort of thing amusing. I’m a family man.”

Faith felt like she had been slapped. She slid quietly down from the desk feeling her cheeks burn. “Sorry, Boss. I...”

“Think nothing of it,” Wilkins said more jovially and returned to his paperwork. “Now, shoo.”


	30. Chapter 30

“Buf-fy. Is... fine. Need time... ‘lone,” Angel said haltingly. It was so agonizing trying to use English. He could hear the correct words and full sentences in his head but there seemed to be some kind of blockage between his ears, brain and vocal cords. He could understand most of what the others said to him now, provided that they spoke slowly. Only with Rowan could he converse fluently but he had since the previous day insisted that also the _Lehaïr_ speak only English to him.

“Are you sure?” Buffy asked with concern. They were sitting on one of the large couches side-by-side with Buffy leaning against Angel’s shoulder.

“Yes, Buf-fy.”

“I... I understand. It must have been difficult for you. First the rescue and then people coming and going, day and night.”

“Not... easy, hurts... less.”

“I’ll make your blood runs for you. There’s stock in the fridge for a few days.”

Buffy kissed Angel’s cheek softly and stood up to leave. Just as she was at the door to the garden, Angel called after her haltingly.

“Buf-fy. You... my girl?”

“Always.”

* * *

Angel stood at the exact spot where he had been standing almost a year ago, next to the looming Acathla. He reached out and pulled an invisible sword out of thin air, from the same spot where the sword hilt had been protruding from Acathla’s chest back then. He slashed and parried with the insubstantial sword, re-enacting the fight with Buffy. With his precise movements, more memories started flooding back to him.

“ _Where are we?... I don’t remember... I feel like I haven’t seen you in months... What’s happening?_ ”

_“Shhh. Don’t worry about it... I love you.”_

_“I love you.”_

_“Close your eyes.”_

He was on his knees, clutching his chest. The pain of the memory and the memory of the pain were almost unbearable.

“She won’t choose you, you know,” a woman’s voice said from behind him, a voice that had haunted him in his nightmares.

He whipped around to see Jenny Calendar sitting on one of the couches, quite at ease.

“You’re not real,” he gasped in panic, backing away from the apparition. In his confusion, he didn’t realize which language they were speaking. “You’re dead.”

“Hey, so are you, big boy, but look who’s here.”

“What do you want?”

“This is just a friendly visit. I wanted to see how you’ve been doing since I released you.”

“You... released me?”

“Yes. But do you think this place is any less of a hell than the one you spent so many years in? Prisoner of a wretch of a self-styled Demon Lord. Rescued by your former girlfriend and her new lover. Unable to make yourself understood. Is it so hard to believe?”

“The Lehaïr...”

“Himself a prisoner for much longer than you. He sought me out, begging for answers. I gave him those and a voice. A voice he has used to seduce those who were once your friends, and the one you loved.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No? Perhaps you’ll believe your own eyes. Come and see,” Ms Calendar said indicating the couch opposite her. Angel approached warily but sat down facing the woman. He saw her take a few photographs from a pocket inside her jacket.

Ms Calendar held out the first one for Angel to see. It showed Buffy and Rowan side-by-side in a bar with Rowan holding a snifter in his hand. Angel reached out for the photo.

“Uh-uh. No touching; eyes only.” She flipped out the other photo. It was grainy as if taken with a telephoto lens from a long distance and through a window. It showed Buffy and Rowan on top of each other on the floor of the adjacent bedroom, beside the bed he’s sleeping on. Buffy appeared to be embracing Rowan with enthusiasm. “Very cosy, mmm-hmm. And you know what? First he fucked that woman Watcher into submission and now he’s doing it to Buffy.”

Angel couldn’t take it any longer. He lunged at the smiling woman opposite him. He hit only thin air and then the back of the couch which fell over with him on top. When he got up, Ms Calendar was standing right in front of him.

“This one has served its purpose,” the woman said and lashed out as if to bitch-slap him. Her hand went through his head and when she held her palm out, a small cloud was swirling above it. She gave it a blow and it dissipated in the air.

“I wish I could stay longer,” the woman said. “But it’s not my time yet.” Then she vanished.

* * *

“I’m sorry Ms... Summers. There’s no-one by that name listed here,” the City Hall receptionist told Buffy after having spent a few minutes checking the City’s personnel list on her computer.

“But she must be there,” Buffy said exasperatedly. “Faith Lehane. I’m not sure about the spelling of her family name but you can’t have that many people with surnames starting with an ‘L’ working for the City, can you?”

“Only a hundred or so,” Buffy’s Slayer hearing picked up the muttered reply, clearly not meant for her ears.

“I’ll wait,” Buffy told the receptionist, Joan, judging by the name on her access card. “She’s gotta come through here eventually.”

“As you wish,” Joan told her in a voice that should have been accompanied by a roll of eyes but, obviously, the woman was too professional for such a visible show of boredom. “The public areas are open until 4 pm.”

Sitting on a hard, wooden bench near the receptionist’s desk, Buffy made sure she could see anyone entering or exiting through the main lobby. Without realizing it, she was managing to project a very convincing “I’m willing to wait until the hell freezes over” demeanour, and this time there was no denying it – Joan’s eyes did roll almost imperceptibly.

After only fifteen minutes of waiting, she was starting to get bored. There was not a single newspaper or magazine anywhere that she could see. She didn’t want to go to Joan and ask, so that left her with only her mind to keep her company. She realized she could remember practically nothing of what had happened in school earlier that day. She had been worrying about Angel, and she had been worrying about Faith. She had played a few dialogues and scenarios in her head of what would happen if/when she finally encountered Faith at the City Hall. In basically all of them Faith had eventually realized that, “God, what a stupid bitch I’ve been” and that Buffy had been right all the time. Right about what? Didn’t really matter.

She was brought out of her daydreaming by someone calling her name. Blinking a few times, she saw that an additional twenty minutes had passed and Joan was beckoning to her with a phone in her hand.

She walked briskly back to the receptionist’s desk and saw a visitor’s badge with her name waiting on it. She looked quizzically at Joan.

“You can go upstairs now, Ms Summers,” Joan said. “Our executive assistant, Nathalie, will be waiting for you in the 2nd floor lobby and escort you from there.”

Well, nice to see that her perseverance had paid off. She was so gonna give Faith an earful for making her wait.

* * *

Nathalie was a tall and elegant dark-skinned woman with a perfect pearly-toothed smile. She shook Buffy’s hand and asked her to follow.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms Summers,” Nathalie told her as they were walking along a carpeted corridor. “It took some effort to find a time slot for you in our busy schedule.”

Busy? Faith was keeping busy already? And with only a few days of working for the City, she had her personal secretary as well?

They came to a wooden double door on which Nathalie knocked twice. She opened the other half of the door and motioned for Buffy to enter. “Ms Summers, Sir,” Nathalie said into the room. Buffy’s head was so full of thoughts rolling around that she totally missed the address Nathalie used. Only when she was inside, and Nathalie had closed the door behind her, did she realize where she was.

“Well, Ms Summers,” Mayor Richard Wilkins said brightly from behind his desk. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

* * *

“So, you’re the little girl who’s the proverbial terror of the Sunnydale underworld,” the Mayor continued cheerfully as Buffy stood rooted on the spot just inside the office doors. “I thought you’d be taller, less skinny...”

“Hey!”

“... and I really can’t figure out what Angel sees in you.”

“What!?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Wilkins said, sounding genuinely apologetical. “Is that a sore spot for you?”

Trying to focus, Buffy realized that she had been unconsciously playing with the locking mechanism of her purse where she kept her spare stake. She had had to pass through a metal detector but since nothing made it beep, the security guard had just waved her through.

“I can sort of understand your attraction to him,” Wilkins continued still in that same jovial tone. “Slayers have always been drawn to the darkness against which they do battle. And sometimes the lure of the darkness can be just so darn irresistible.”

Without realizing how it happened, Buffy suddenly felt her fingers circle around hard wood. Looking down at her right hand, she noticed she was holding her stake in a death-like grip.

“Well, isn’t this exciting?” Wilkins laughed and stood up from his chair. His phone ringed once but he paid it no mind. He walked around the desk and faced Buffy, staying about ten feet away.

“You better put that toy away, Slayer, before someone gets hurt,” the Mayor said in a cold voice which was in total contrast with his earlier tone. His face had hardened and his whole posture projected well-exercised authority.

“I want to see Faith,” Buffy hissed through clenched teeth.

“She’s not your concern anymore, little lady,” Wilkins said somewhat patronizingly. “You and your Council had your chance but now she is well rid of you.” He took a few long steps forward and was now standing only a few feet away from Buffy.

“I’m going to stop you,” Buffy growled in a low voice. “I’m going to make you regret you ever heard the word ‘Slayer’.”

“And how are you going to do that? By staking me?” Suddenly Buffy’s hand holding the stake was taken into an iron grip and the Mayor pressed the tip of the stake against his chest. “Are you going to become like your former colleague? A killer? Do you have what it takes to do it?”

Before Buffy could react, Wilkins jerked their joined hands towards him.

Buffy’s scream was caught in her throat as the Mayor staggered a few steps backwards with the stake firmly embedded in his own chest. At the same moment she heard the door open behind her.

“Hi, Boss! You wanted me? ... B? What the...?”

* * *

Faith had been surprised to receive the call from the Boss just half an hour earlier. Giving Joan a nod in the lobby she was somewhat perplexed to see the receptionist pick up the phone as she started for the main stairway. The Boss had told her to come right away, so there should be no need to inform Nathalie of her arrival. She just shrugged and took the stairs two at a time.

She came across Nathalie in the corridor leading to the Mayor’s office and the secretary just nodded to her and motioned for her to go straight in. She was in good spirits opening the door, having eagerly waited for a new assignment. What she encountered in the Boss’ office made her jaw drop in shock.

She saw the Mayor pull a stake out of his chest and, to her surprise, there was no blood on it or his shirt. Buffy was standing in the middle of the room, her hand still raised in a staking gesture. There was a total silence in the room until the Boss broke it.

“Faith, I’m alright,” Wilkins said, rubbing his chest. “No harm done.” Then he turned to the shell-shocked blonde Slayer. “You really have some anger management issues, Ms Summers. I called Faith here as you requested, and this is how you show your gratitude? In my youth you’d been bent over a knee and paddled for that kind of insolence.”

The Mayor’s audacity shook Buffy out of her paralysis. “No, Faith, that’s not what...”

“What do you want, B?” Faith said in an emotionless voice that made Buffy’s heart sink.

“I... This is not how I...,” Buffy started. “Can we go somewhere private?”

“This is as private as it’s gonna get, B. Get to the point already.”

Buffy could only stand there silently. Any words she wanted to say had totally evaporated from her mind.

“Thought so,” Faith sneered. “Let me make it clear for you. I’m where I want to be. I’m where I’m supposed to be. If that’s something you can’t handle, too bad. Now, go back to your little Scooby fan club and leave me alone. I have work to do.”

“Faith, why?” Buffy said almost inaudibly, her eyes misting with tears. “We... I need you. And Ro...”

That was as far as Buffy got before Faith’s right hook to the jaw dropped her to the carpet.

With her head ringing from the blow, Buffy heard Faith’s dispassionate voice above her. “Boss? I need use to the bathroom. Back in five.” After that Faith’s steps moved away from her and then the door to the office opened and closed. To Buffy it sounded like a crypt’s door slamming shut.

* * *

Faith made it to the ladies’ room just in time. Slamming the stall door closed behind her, she dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and emptied her stomach. ‘ _Fuck it, B. Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone? This is way bigger than you and me. Please, please understand that I’m doing this to protect you. And you, Bright Eyes. You’re the first one to give me their complete trust in like forever. But I told you I’m not good enough. There’s no way I can come through this in one piece._ ’

Then she did something she had not done since she was eight. Still on her knees in front of the porcelain altar, she turned her eyes upwards. ‘ _I just cannot win, can I, Big Guy? Can I even break even?_ ’

* * *

Five minutes later Faith had composed herself enough to be able to face the Boss again. The Mayor was alone in his office reading some papers and Faith slipped in quietly, sitting in the familiar guest chair.

“Was there something else for me, Boss?” Faith asked after a minute of silence.

“Actually, yes, there is,” Wilkins said, putting down the papers. At the same time her Slayer sense tingled and the office doors opened behind her. She didn’t have to turn around to know that Mr Trick had entered the room. “Mr Trick informed me this morning that someone has been snooping around in the City Hall computers.”

The vampire nodded. “I tracked down the identity of the hacker. I’m sure Ms Willow Rosenberg is a name you recognize, Slayer.”

“Red? No way! Why would she mess with your computers?” Faith asked, managing to sound surprised, but mostly because Willow’s snooping had been discovered.

“I was hoping you would ask her that,” Wilkins said. “And also tell her to stop; politely, mind. She seems to have an unhealthy interest in my affairs and those of the late Deputy Mayor.”

Faith couldn’t avoid a shudder at hearing that.

The Mayor didn’t fail to notice her sudden discomfort. “Hey, hey, none of that. I told you it was an accident – water under the bridge. Now, regarding Ms Rosenberg’s extracurricular activities, I wouldn’t mind if she was only interested in Allan; it shows she cares about my Slayer. But her specific interest in me is somewhat troublesome.”

* * *

Buffy left the Mayor’s office without another word or backward glance. Her jaw hurt like hell as she walked like an automaton along the carpeted corridor, down the main staircase and out of the City Hall. Only when she was outside in the street did the first sobs escape her mouth.

While walking basically unseeing back to Sunnydale High, she kept replaying the scene with the Mayor in her head. The stake had definitely penetrated his chest deep enough to pierce the heart, but he had just pulled it out without so much as a drop of blood visible. She suddenly remembered Kakistos. She had tried to stake him, but the ancient vampire had just shrugged it off. That had been different, though. The chest of Kakistos had fused together to create an almost impenetrable armour but this time her stake had definitely gone in the Mayor’s chest.

What if the Mayor couldn’t be harmed at all? That thought fought against everything she had come to take for truth. If you staked someone, they either turned to dust or otherwise ceased being mobile. Story, end of. And Faith, oh God, Faith. That cold stare and impassive voice had hurt so much. Just a few days ago they had danced in the Bronze together, something that had been one of the greatest thrills of her life.

Despite everything that had happened at the City Hall, she tried to rationalize Faith’s actions to herself. Faith had just... changed jobs. She had killed a man but it had been an accident. So, it was like she had been sentenced to... community service. She wasn’t dead. She hadn’t even left Sunnydale. But why did it feel like continents separated them now?

In the library Rowan was polishing their swords and axes and Giles was cataloguing what looked like a new batch of history books. Gwen was sitting at the long study table with a stack of books beside her, writing something in a notebook. Three pairs of eyes followed her entry to the library as she made her way to the table. She was sure everyone’s eyes were focused on the bruise in her cheek. Rowan’s smooth, brown features revealed nothing of what he was thinking. Gwen was looking at her with polite interest. Only Giles showed concern at seeing her face and led her to sit in a chair on the opposite side of the table from Gwen.

“It didn’t go well,” Rowan stated from the door to the cage.

Buffy propped her elbows on the table and hid her face in her hands. She could only shake her head. Giles brought her a glass of water and sat down in the chair beside her. He put an affectionate arm around her shoulders.

“I... I went to the City Hall,” Buffy started haltingly after having gulped down the water in one. “I was escorted to the Mayor’s office and... he said some things, definitely bad guy things... Slayers and darkness... Angel. He made me so mad. I... I staked him.”

Giles’ hand suddenly gripped her shoulder with painful force. “Buffy, no!” she heard the librarian say with a choke. Gwen’s pen dropped to the table and rolled down to the floor.

Buffy continued as if she hadn’t heard any of that. “I had a stake in my hand and he... he grabbed my hand and thrust the stake in his own heart. It... it didn’t affect him at all. He just pulled it out like nothing had happened. It was then that Faith... She was so cold. She told me she wanted to be there, that she was needed there. Giles, we gotta do something! Oh, my God. I thought I’d never have to say this. Let’s call the Council and have them get her out of there.”

“Buffy...,” Giles started.

“They can do it,” Buffy continued, getting agitated. “They have agents everywhere. Let’s see them pull some strings.”

“Let me, Rupert,” Gwen said gently, giving Rowan an almost imperceptible glance. “Buffy. If we call the Council, they will most likely send a retrieval team after Faith. Under the best circumstances they will drug her and smuggle her back to England for... rehabilitation.”

Gwen’s words were like a cold shower to Buffy and she straightened her back. “Those are the ‘best circumstances’? I’d hate to hear the alternatives.”

“The team they sent would be from the Council’s special operations unit,” Gwen explained further. “In addition to smuggling, they handle other tricky jobs for the Council, including wet works.”

“Wet works?” Buffy asked in confusion. “Like taking Faith scuba diving? That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Assassination, Buffy,” Rowan said from where he was standing at the cage door. “A new Slayer.”


	31. Chapter 31

Faith kept her eyes on the notice board and her head low while waiting for the students to exit the computer lab. She also kept her Slayer sense at full sensitivity to alert her of Buffy’s presence. After the last person had exited the class room, she quietly entered before the door could close. Willow was there alone, facing away from the door.

“Hey, Red,” Faith said casually as she locked the door behind her back.

Willow turned around like she’d been spun on a turntable and blanched at seeing the Slayer.

“H-hey, Faith,” she stammered and took a step backwards. Unfortunately, a carelessly left chair was just behind her and she plopped down on it.

Faith took her time approaching the redhead. She grabbed a chair herself, turned it around and set it down almost close enough for it to touch Willow’s knees. Straddling it, she crossed her arms on top of the backrest.

“You’ve been spying on the Mayor, messing around in the City Hall systems. Why?” Faith asked conversationally, looking Willow in the eyes. She knew her sitting position was provocative, but it still surprised her when Willow’s gaze kept flicking almost too subtly to notice downwards from her face.

Faith snapped her fingers in front of Willow’s face. “The action is up here, Red. Thought you drove stick anyway.”

“Wh-what?” Willow stammered and turned almost as red as her hair.

“I asked you a question,” Faith said, deciding to drop the issue and get back to business. “You’ve been snooping around the Mayor’s files. He told me to ask you to stop, politely. So, could you please stop doing that?”

“Wh-what? I... I don’t...”

“Ok, that was me asking politely,” Faith said and drew her knife from behind her back. “This is me telling you _pointedly_ to stop.”

* * *

Rowan did a last check on the first order form before feeding it to the fax machine. _Nagasa_ , check; _sori_ , check; _motohaba_ , check; _sakihaba_ , check; _motokasane_ , check; _sakikasane_ , check; and so on. Next was the preliminary order form for the polishing and mounting once the blade was ready. _Tsuka_ , check; _Tsuba_ , check; _saya_ , check; _habaki_ , check; and so on. That paper also was ingested by the fax. While the machine whirred, the door to the library opened behind him. Without turning around, he knew from the sound of the steps that they belonged to Willow.

Giles clucked his tongue irritably at the condition of the recently returned book. Being a librarian would be a dream job if not for the pesky people who actually wanted to take the books out for loan... When the library doors opened, he glanced at the newcomer out of the corner of his eyes. Seeing that it was just Willow, he returned to the task of cataloguing the returned book.

Buffy initially just waved at her best friend but then her hand froze in the air as she took in the jerky and hesitant movement of the redhead and the hand Willow was pressing against her neck.

“Willow! What’s wrong?” Buffy exclaimed in dismay, drawing the attention of the others to Willow as well. Xander was the first to reach the Witch’s side. Willow just kept on staring straight ahead.

“Willow! Hey, Wills, it’s me, Xander,” Xander said with rising concern and grabbed Willow’s wrists gently in his hands.

“F-F-F...,” Willow stammered turning her unblinking eyes to Xander.

Gently but with determination Xander pulled Willow’s hand away from her neck. Buffy sucked in a hissing breath as she saw the shallow red incision just below her friend’s ear. A few drops of blood made their way down to her collarbone.

“Faith,” Willow managed to breathe before all strength left her legs and she collapsed against Xander.

“She’s here?” Buffy snarled and ran straight out of the library.

* * *

When Buffy returned to the library, Xander was still soothing the distressed redhead. They were sitting at the long table with Xander having his arm around Willow’s shoulders. There was a cup of steaming tea in front of her and a bandage around her neck. Rowan was sitting on the mezzanine stairs with his knees drawn up and his crossed arms resting on top of them. Giles and Gwen were arguing in the adjacent office.

Buffy went straight to Willow, kneeled beside her and hugged her best friend’s waist. “Can you tell us what happened, Willow?” she asked quietly.

“Did you find her?” Rowan asked from where he was sitting. Buffy just shook her head. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Giles and Gwen exit the office and come to stand quietly close to the table.

Willow took a long, shaking breath and blinked her eyes a few times.

“I was in the computer lab tidying it up after a class and then Faith just suddenly was there. She locked us inside and told me to s-stop hacking the City Hall computers. S-she had a knife...”

Buffy growled deep in her throat at hearing this. Faith had threatened her best friend with a knife. “She cut your throat?” she asked with forced calmness.

“N-no, Buffy. She stabbed a monitor... t-to make a point and... and it exploded. I... I don’t think she meant that to happen. A-a shard from the screen cut me. F-Faith, she just rushed out of the room after that.”

“She damn near got you killed, Willow,” Buffy said heatedly. “There’s no fucking excuse for that.” The Slayer rarely used the f-word so everyone knew she was furious.

Buffy was just about to stand up and start pacing when Willow’s hand on her arm stopped her. “B-Buffy. Faith said something just as she was fumbling with the lock to get out of the lab.”

“I’m really not interested in some semi-cool one-liners of hers,” Buffy said with a snort but didn’t attempt to get away from Willow’s touch.

“Buffy, please. It’s really important. She said, _‘Get out of Sunnydale, Red, before it’s too late. Once the Boss Ascends, it will be.’_ ”

* * *

Gwen was the first to break the silence after Willow’s revelation. “Well, I guess this is it. Now we know for certain.”

Rowan was keeping his face expressionless but inside he was smiling hugely. Faith had been able to give them through Willow a key piece of information without making it sound too suspicious that she knew more than she let out.

“Alright then, let’s recap what we know,” Giles said holding a notebook. “The Mayor is attempting something momentous called an ‘Ascension’. He wanted a set of five related books, which he now has. He seems to be invulnerable. A previous Ascension two hundred and seventy odd years ago resulted in a town being wiped off the face of the Earth. Did I miss anything?”

“Only that Balthazar seemed to be quite knowledgeable about the Mayor’s business,” Rowan reminded him. “He mentioned that his enemy has ultimate power within his grasp and that when he rises, or Ascends, we’d wish he’d killed us all. Maybe this impeding Ascension is big news in the demon world and we just haven’t kept our ears sufficiently open.”

“Thank you, Rowan. I’d forgotten about that. But we still don’t know what an Ascension really is, when it’s going to happen and, most importantly, how do we stop it from happening.”

There was a prolonged silence which lasted for almost a full minute. Then Gwen stood up and started slowly pacing in front of the table.

“This puts us at a distinct disadvantage. Now that Willow’s hacking activities have become exposed, they are certain to tighten their security enough to make any further attempts at accessing their systems futile. How far did you get with the Mayor’s files, Willow?”

“Not far,” Willow admitted with an apologetic grimace. “Their security was much better than I’d expected. And now…” She left it there with a shake of her head.

The discussion was briefly interrupted as Oz entered the library. Willow was out of her seat in a flash and almost knocked him over as she rushed to hug him and buried her face in his shoulder.

“What about the Hall of Records,” Oz said contemplatively after they had briefed him in. Willow was sitting in his lap with her arms circled around his neck.

“The Hall of Records?” Rowan asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, the city archives,” Oz explained. “Every public document since the founding of Sunnydale is stored there. Newspapers too.”

“Go to the source. I like it,” Xander nodded.

“I’ll go,” Gwen volunteered. She looked around the table. Willow, Xander and Oz raised their hands.

“Right,” Giles said. “I’ll start researching the Books of Ascension. Rowan?”

Rowan nodded and everyone’s eyes turned to Buffy.

“Patrol?” she offered in a small voice.

* * *

Faith was badly shaken as she rushed out of the school and started walking with a quick step back to the City Hall. She briefly entertained the idea of going to Willy’s to get herself really drunk but the Boss would want an update on the Willow situation as soon as possible.

When she stabbed the monitor, she had only meant to scare Willow enough to dissuade her from continuing the hacking activities on the Mayor. She was certain that the Boss wouldn’t hesitate to order more drastic measures to be taken if the message was not clear enough. She had not expected the monitor to basically explode in her hands and send a shrapnel to cut Willow’s neck. Less than an inch to the left and the situation could have ended a lot more seriously. She hoped that despite everything, Willow would have the presence of mind to relay her parting words to the gang.

The whole situation was a big cluster-fuck. She couldn’t be seen helping the Scoobies and, on the other hand, Rowan couldn’t give them too much information all at once in order to protect her. The Mayor would become suspicious of her either way.

Back at the City Hall Faith marched directly to the second floor and, nodding to Nathalie, into the Boss’ office.

“Done,” she said unceremoniously from the door. She went to sit in the guest chair. “Red won’t give you any more trouble, Boss.”

The Mayor gave her a long, penetrating look. “Confronting your former friends isn’t easy, I see.”

“Got that right, Boss,” Faith said without having to fake the unease she felt.

“Hopefully further demonstrations won’t be necessary,” Wilkins said. “I received word that the little Witch was badly shaken,” he continued with a secretive smile.

Faith understood immediately. Her actions and those of the Scoobies were being monitored. She suddenly remembered the vampire she had staked on her way to Willy’s.

Wilkins stayed silent for a long while, measuring Faith with his penetrating gaze. “Faith. What do you think is going on here?” he asked neutrally.

“Boss?” Faith asked, being genuinely perplexed.

“Come now. You’re an intelligent young woman. Surely you must have been wondering. You know Mr Trick is working for me and you saw what Ms Summers... attempted to do to me. Don’t tell me your curiosity hasn’t been tickled.”

“Honestly, Boss. I don’t...”

Faith’s line of thought was interrupted when Wilkins rose up from his leather chair and, grabbing a metal letter opener from the desk, came to stand in front of her, leaning on his desk.

“Here, take it,” Wilkins said, offering the letter opener to Faith hilt first. Faith was so surprised that she took it without hesitation.

“Now, strike me with it,” the Mayor ordered.

“Boss, no. I can’t,” Faith said her voice trembling. She had no idea what was going on but she kept holding the dull blade in her hand.

Suddenly Wilkins was looming over her. “I told you to use it, Slayer!” he snarled and attempted to strike her with an open palm.

Acting on instinct, Faith struck the threatening hand with the letter opener. The blade penetrated the Mayor’s palm easily and then Wilkins was leaning backwards with his whole demeanour back to its jovial self. He kept his hand held up so that Faith could clearly see that the blade had completely penetrated it. Then, he slowly pulled the letter opener from his palm, and Faith saw that the hole in the middle of it closed immediately without so much as a drop of blood escaping from the closing wound.

Faith felt like throwing up again and she had to keep swallowing back the bile that threatened to invade her mouth.

“See, Faith,” Wilkins said cheerfully, wiping the letter opener clean with a towelette. “I’m currently what could be described as impervious to harm.”

Faith could only stare with her mouth hanging open as the Mayor returned back to his chair.

“Now, Faith. I’m going to explain some things to you and by doing so I’m trusting you more than I trust practically anyone around here.”

When Faith didn’t say anything, Wilkins continued.

“I told you earlier I was in a transitional period in my life. That was a bit of an understatement, but I hope you understand I couldn’t tell you more at that time.” He looked at the ceiling for a moment. “I’m old, Faith. Older than you think. For many, many years I’ve been working towards something that would transcend myself to something more than a mere human. The culmination of this project is now very close at hand. One of the final preparational steps was a ‘Dedication’ through which I became immune to any physical harm until the actual completion. This completion is called the Ascension. I still have a few more steps to take care of and your presence here will make completing them much easier. You already helped to get me the tomes of ritual and in the near future I will need your assistance in securing a certain artefact for the penultimate stage of my transition.”

“Boss... I’m just a foot-soldier. All this stuff is beyond me,” Faith said honestly. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“I know you will, Faith, I know you will,” Wilkins said soothingly. “I’m just telling you that with you by my side, you will be the first beneficiary from my new status. Think about it, Faithy. I can give you power, fame, wealth beyond your wildest dreams. I can give you eternal youth. You and me together, forever!” The Mayor’s voice became louder through an ecstatic crescendo as he laid out the list of temptations that would be hers if she just sacrificed herself on his altar.

Faith drew back in genuine fear. “Boss, please. This... this is too much. I just want to help you and then I’ll just...”

The Mayor returned to his normal jovial self in the blink of an eye. “I’m sorry, Faithy. I know this must come to you as a shock. But everything I said is true and yours for the taking if you so desire. But, no more talking of the heavy stuff, for now. I’m starving, so you must be double that. Let’s have lunch together downstairs.”

It was a totally confused Slayer that followed the Mayor to the City Hall cafeteria.

* * *

“Hey, I thought of an even more boring way of investigating the Mayor,” Xander said with fake cheerfulness. “Wait! On second thought, no, I didn’t.”

“Xander,” Willow admonished him without looking up from the text she was reading.

They had been going through old newspapers, administration’s ledgers, city council meeting minutes for several hours and nothing relevant or important had yet popped out. Still, they each felt that something just had to be hidden within the massive amount of collected city history.

Just then Oz came back from within the shelves holding a large, bound collection of newspaper clips and photos. “Hey, whoa!” he said breathlessly and laid out the large volume on the table.

“Whoa. Big ‘hey, whoa’,” Willow agreed as they looked at an old photo of the city’s founder and first Mayor. “Check this out.”

Gwen and Xander rose from their seats and gathered around Willow who was holding two photos in her hands; one showing the first Mayor and the other showing the Honourable Richard Wilkins III.

“Like father, like son,” she said in awe.

“How about ‘like exact same guy, like exact same guy’?” Oz commented.

“Mayor Wilkins is well over 100 years old.” Gwen said quietly. “He’s not human.”


	32. Chapter 32

“Well, that’s one down... and one gone,” Buffy muttered to herself as the other scabby, mouthless demon disappeared into the darkness. She didn’t notice the glowing splotch of blue liquid on the back of her hand which slowly absorbed through the skin.

It had been a week since her visit to the City Hall, and the Mayor’s words about Slayers and darkness still haunted her. She had also been to the mansion a few times during the week, to replenish Angel’s blood supply, but the vampire was absent on both visits. She hadn’t seen or heard a peep of Angel since she had agreed to give him time to be alone.

She slept poorly the following night. She had nightmares of her friends having no mouth but still trying to explain something important to her. She tried to tell them that she couldn’t understand and then, looking into the bathroom mirror, saw that she didn’t have a mouth herself. She woke up in cold sweat with a scream on her lips.

She was feeling marginally better later that day after school as she was walking the corridors with Willow on their way to the library.

“I don’t like this no-mouth thing,” Willow said with a shudder. “It’s disquieting.”

“Well, no mouth means no teeth,” Buffy said brightly but then she realized something. “Unless they have them somewhere else.” Now _that_ was disquieting.

“Afternoon, girls,” Giles greeted them from inside the metal cage as they sat down at the study table. Xander and Oz already had large tomes open in front of them. Gwen and Rowan were nowhere to be seen.

“Apparently Willow has come across an interesting detail regarding the Mayor’s Ascension,” Giles said. “Willow? Please.”

“Oh, right!” Willow said excitedly. “Remember the Merenshtad Text? The entry which mentioned that the Ascension would take place the following day was dated May 26, 1723. I checked old calendars and diaries about that date and, guess what? A total Solar eclipse was visible in the area around Sharpsville on May 27.”

“Yeah, so?” Xander prompted.

“The next total eclipse which can be seen in Sunnydale coincides with the Graduation Day,” Willow said, looking extremely pleased with herself.

“Now we know when,” Oz said quietly.

“Yay us,” Xander said sarcastically. “And I’m sure that this titbit has given our Master Cross-referencer new insight into the problem as a whole.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure that with this new info we can eliminate several possibilities,” Giles said defensively.

“Like?” Buffy asked impatiently. For some reason the back of her left hand was itching like hell and she had to keep both her hands under the table to hide the constant scratching she was doing.

“Like anything to do with the demon Azorath, or...” Giles fell silent as four pairs of eyes were looking at him with a pained expression.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Giles admitted with a sigh.

Giles’ sigh was followed by Gwen who entered the library with her usual elegant step.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Gwen said brightly. “I have some good news. We can definitely rule out that the demon Azorath has anything to do...”

Gwen fell silent as Willow, Oz and Xander silently gathered their books and filed past her out of the library.

“What?” she asked Giles in confusion.

“Don’t ask,” Giles answered and then noticed that Buffy was still sitting in her chair furiously scratching the back of her left hand.

“Buffy?” he asked in concern.

He saw Buffy flinch and try to hide her hands under the table. He exchanged a glance with Gwen to which the younger Watcher simply nodded and followed the three teens out of the library. Giles sat down next to the Slayer and gently took her hands into his without any resistance. The back of her left hand was angry red from all the scratching she had done.

“Buffy, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said quietly.

Buffy let out a long sigh. “Last night on patrol I encountered these two mouthless demons...”

* * *

“Is this the demon in question?” Giles asked, showing Buffy the engraved picture.

“In the less than disgusting flesh,” Buffy nodded. The picture was sort of flattering, making the demon look... demonic instead of a scabby mess of mouthless flesh.

“Well, it says here it can infect the host with an aspect of itself.”

“Infect!?” Buffy asked incredulously with her voice rising an octave. “I’m infected? Wait... what aspect?”

Giles read through the chapter describing the demon, twice. “Erm... it doesn’t say.”

“An aspect of the demon. Like... a part of it? I hope it’s not the outside part.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Buffy. The itching may be the result of numerous other causes, like an allergic reaction to a fabric softener or to some new menu item in the cafeteria.”

“New menu item?” Buffy asked incredulously. “Giles, this is Sunnydale High. The menus in there have been manually typed in the ‘60s.”

“Yes, well, good point. In any case, I would recommend against hunting for the one that got away. Let’s not risk any further exposure.”

* * *

That night on patrol Buffy stopped under nearly every streetlight to check her face in her pocket mirror. The itching had lessened somewhat but she feared that it was just a sign that major aspecting was taking place somewhere else in her body.

She made a few faces and stuck out her tongue for good measure before putting the mirror away.

“Well, still got a mouth,” she said to herself and turned around. She came face-to-face with another demonic aspect of darkness.

“Sorry, Buffy,” Angel said quietly not quite looking her in the eyes. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Angel! You can... I mean, I can understand you.”

“I got better,” the vampire muttered.

“Did Rowan...?”

“No!” Angel said vehemently, surprising Buffy so that she took a few steps back.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to...,” Buffy started. “It’s just that you surprised me. I didn’t see you so I should have known you were there. Where have you been anyway?”

“Just... around, doing some thinking. But with Faith and all, I realized I needed to know you were safe.”

“Yeah... Faith,” Buffy muttered. She knew she should have waited for the initial frustrations to subside before bringing Angel up-to-date as it came to Faith. She regretted having given Angel his first impression about the rogue Slayer while she herself was still confused about her. She had been afraid since then that once Angel got better, he might do something rash. First impressions were first impressions and nothing she had subsequently said seemed to have shaken the vampires outlook on the brunette.

They started walking along the street, side-by-side, but keeping a distance between them. It was odd. It should have been a happy occasion, now that they could communicate freely again. But there was an awkwardness between them that was almost tangible. Buffy knew the reason for her own uneasiness, but she couldn’t understand why Angel seemed to be equally uncomfortable around her.

They walked in silence for several minutes until Angel spoke up.

“Something’s bothering you,” he said without looking in her direction.

“A lot of things,” Buffy said with a sigh. “A demon, most recently. Actually, two of them. I touched one of them and now I’m afraid I’m gonna get...”

“... ‘an aspect of the demon’,” Angel completed the sentence.

“You know the drill.”

“By rumour. But it doesn’t have to mean anything, Buffy. It’s not unheard of for some demons to exaggerate their powers.”

“Demon hype, who’da thunk,” Buffy said sarcastically. “But I’m totally in the dark there. In fact, I seem to spend all my time in the dark here anyway. So, it won’t matter much if someone were to see me with my new forked tail.”

Angel grabbed Buffy’s arm and turned her around to face him. “I won’t let that happen to you. Whatever you... decide, I won’t let anything happen to you if I can help it.”

“I know,” Buffy said softly, quietly wondering what she was supposed to decide on. “I feel safer now that I know that you have my back once more.”

When they continued on, their hands sought each other’s and some of the awkwardness melted away. After a few minutes they passed a late-night bar.

“Hey, wanna join me for a drink?” Buffy asked lightly. She stiffened when Angel suddenly let go of her hand and stood absolutely still. “... or not,” she continued lamely.

“I... I gotta go, Buffy,” Angel said backing away.

“Angel? What is it?” Buffy asked anxiously.

“It’s nothing. I... I just need some time...,” Angels said in a rush, turned away and ran into the night.

“Angel!” Buffy called after him but didn’t attempt to follow.

* * *

“Are you sure you’re feeling better now?” Giles asked in concern. ‘That aspect thing must be really weighing in her mind.’

“You got that right,” Buffy answered and re-adjusted the cool towel on her forehead.

“Maybe you should see the school nurse anyway.” ‘I’d better call Joyce.’

“Thanks.”

“Do you remember anything before you collapsed?” ‘It was probably those shoes of hers. Who in their right mind would want to wear heels that high?’

“I didn’t trip over my shoes, Giles.”

“Erm... that’s fine. Um... did you feel nauseous or queasy? Did you see flashes of light or dark spots or anything?” ‘She should eat more. Maybe it was just exhaustion.’

“I feel fine now. But why do you keep addressing me in the third person half the time?”

“What?”

“You said ‘she should eat more’. Why didn’t you just say ‘you should eat more’? And I eat plenty enough, thank you.”

“Buffy, I didn’t... Dear God.”

“Those demons were telepathic? That’s the aspect?”

“I was just...”

“That’s why they don’t need mouths. And you really should have known.”

“This... this is really astounding,” Giles said and laid the books in his hands to the table.

“It’s way better than a tail,” Buffy said starting to feel really excited. “It’s weird but think about it, Giles. Think about what I could do.”

“Well, it could be very useful. You could anticipate your opponents’ every move. Turn their plans against them.”

“Ohhh, Giles. Way better than that.”

* * *

“I... I can’t believe you’re using this... telepathy to cheat in class,” Willow fumed. ‘She knows everything the teachers know. She doesn’t need me anymore. I’m an ex-best-friend.’

“No, Willow, I do need you. Great, Xander, thank you.”

“How are you guys do... Hey!” Xander said having just sat down beside Buffy. ‘Oh, God. She knows I’m thinking about sex all the time. Oh, no. Naked girls, naked Buffy, naked Faith, naked Buffy and Faith in a pillow fight. Oh, I’m bad. I’m very, very bad. Where was I? Naked...’

“God, Xander,” Buffy snorted. “Is that all you think about?”

“Well, actually... Bye,” Xander said hurriedly and sprinted out of the library.

“I think Xander just illustrated something important. It is a question of mental discipline,” Gwen said. “To hide the thoughts we least want Buffy to hear.”

Willow and Oz took a frightened glance at each other and followed Xander. As they were at the library doors, Rowan came in and they almost collided with the doors as they opened inside. “What’s going on?” Rowan asked.

“Don’t think,” Oz said and followed Willow out of the library.

Buffy was looking at Gwen with her mouth hanging open. “You and Rowan?! And invisible ropes!?!” She turned to Giles, but the words she wanted to say became stuck in her throat. “You and Mom?! On the hood of a police car?! Twice!? Is everyone having sex with everyone else here except me?”

Before Buffy could vent out her anger and frustration more, her mind picked up something which felt like waves crashing on the shore.

Buffy turned to face Rowan who seemed to be the only one not blushing deep red in the room. “Are you...?”

Rowan nodded. “I’m checking if an old mental trick works. Based on your reaction, it seems to be.”

“Erm... Buffy,” Giles called from the office. “Can you hear me from over here? When the door is closed?”

Buffy gave him an evil stare and then Gwen called her from the steel cage.

“What about here? I was thinking that the mesh could function like a Faraday cage.”

Gnashing her teeth together she turned to Rowan. “You have anything to add?”

“I’m thinking I could project this kind of static on you,” Rowan said evenly, not at all fazed by Buffy’s belligerence. “For a short duration, at least, and only if you stay still and relaxed. It’ll be very taxing even like that, but with you being mobile and active... impossible.”

Buffy was still mulling this over when she felt a sudden and terrible pain in her head. It was like a feedback echo had blasted out of speakers connected to a suddenly turned-on amplifier which had had the volume left on 11. Rowan rushed in to support her and Giles ran out of the office in rising alarm with Gwen following him close behind.

“How long do you think you could do that?” Giles asked Rowan anxiously as they gently laid a whimpering Buffy down on the floor.

“Not long; hours, maybe,” Rowan shook his head. “Eventually she will just overpower me or I’ll pass out from exhaustion. Or both.”

“Then we have no time to waste,” Giles said. “Rowan... erm, could you take Buffy home? I’ll call Joyce. Gwen and I will start researching for an antidote immediately.”

* * *

“Hi, honey. How are you feeling?” Joyce asked somewhat hesitantly as Buffy and Rowan came in through the kitchen door. “Rowan, dear. I’m so glad you’re here to help her. Why don’t you two go upstairs? I have some... laundry to do.”

“It’s okay, Mom... well it’s definitely not ok, but I got the details from Giles already,” Buffy said. Then she went silent. “ _That_ I didn’t know. Mom! And what on earth is a stevedore?”

“Let’s go to your room, Buffy,” Rowan said taking her arm. “I need to stay close.”

“Not exactly complaining here,” Buffy muttered under her breath and then blushed.


	33. Chapter 33

Faith was just a few moves away from defeating the final boss when the phone rang. With pause being disabled, she watched with a painful expression her character being torn to pieces as she went to pick up the phone.

“Yo,” she answered.

“ _Now, Faith. That’s no way to answer a call,_ ” she heard the Boss’ gentle admonishment. “ _Let’s try again._ ”

‘ _Oh, you gotta be kidding me,_ ’ Faith thought and waited. Hearing nothing for several seconds, she caved. “Faith Lehane. To whom am I speaking?” she tried again, hoping not to sound too sarcastic.

“ _That’s my girl,_ ” the Boss answered lightly. “ _And it’s Richard, in case you were wondering._ ”

“Yeah, Boss. What’s up?”

“ _We have a situation. Can you be at the City Hall in half-an-hour?_ ”

“Sure. I’ll be there.”

“ _See, that’s what I like about you, Faith. You don’t ask questions when you know there won’t be answers. Half-an-hour,_ ” the Boss said and then the line went dead.

* * *

“Oh, dear,” Giles sighed as he found the correct entry in the tome on antidotes.

“That’s never a good sign,” Gwen said raising her eyes from the manual she was consulting.

“The final component is the heart of the second demon. How on earth are we going to get that?”

“That would be my task,” Angel said from the door to the library.

“Angel? You know? How?” Giles asked, taken totally aback.

“Willow. Now, tell me.”

* * *

When Faith entered the Mayor’s office, she saw Wilkins and Mr Trick in deep conversation.

“The aspect will definitely prove to be fatal, through eventual suicide if nothing else,” she heard Trick say. “These telepathic demons...”

The vampire went silent at the Mayor’s raised hand as Wilkins saw Faith standing in the doorway.

“Faith, good,” Wilkins said amiably. “There’s a rather urgent task I need you to undertake this evening.”

“Sure, Boss,” Faith said matter-of-factly. “Whaddya want me to do?”

“There’s a demon of a rare species currently in Sunnydale. I want you to bring me its heart.”

Faith felt brave enough to ask a question. “Is this heart something you need to reach your goal?”

“Not really, Faith,” Wilkins answered thoughtfully. “It is to prevent one of my enemies from reaching theirs.”

* * *

Buffy was lying in her bed in the dim room with her head literally buzzing. When Rowan had mentioned “static”, she didn’t realize it would “sound” just like that; something between an empty TV channel and a seashore.

Rowan was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up. It occurred to Buffy that he was occupying the exact same spot as he had after finishing the final song at Faith’s birthday party.

They had not exchanged a single word ever since Buffy changed to her cow pyjamas and let Rowan inside the room.

It should have felt odd being in her darkened bedroom with just him. And, for God’s sake, her Mom hadn’t batted an eyelash when she suggested they go upstairs together. It had been like the most natural thing in the world. She tried to imagine it was Angel sitting there in Rowan’s place. She would have been by his side in an instant, snuggling against him. She knew she liked Rowan, very much, but she just couldn’t... especially now that Angel was back. In a situation like this, how did you even approach a subject like that? She envied both Faith and Rowan for their outspokenness, something she knew she would probably never equal. When situations got out of her comfort zone, she tended to get tongue-tied, babbly. But he was here, with her, doing everything in his power to keep her safe.

“So, you and Gwen, huh?” Buffy suddenly heard herself saying.

“Yes,” Rowan said quietly, turning his glowing eyes to her.

Buffy stayed silent for a few seconds.

“This is where you tell me it’s none of my business,” she reminded him.

“I’m not denying it, neither do I feel any need to be ashamed of it. You’ve seen her, now. It was what she needed and, all things considered, we’re all the better for it.”

“So, it was all just duty?” Buffy asked unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “‘Close your eyes and think of England.’”

“Not at all,” Rowan answered mildly. “You misinterpret my words, Buffy. I don’t have to explain myself to you, nor my motives, but I will if you want me to.”

“No, I really don’t need to know,” Buffy said hurriedly. The constant buzzing in her head made coherent thoughts difficult to form and this was deep enough even for a clear-headed Buffy. “It’s just...”

“Angel.” Rowan completed her thought.

“How did you...? That’s not fair, reading my thoughts when I’m all... open and vulnerable.”

“I wasn’t, Buffy,” Rowan said reassuringly. “But your body language, well... that’s another matter.”

“My body...? Stop that this instant! This is not a fight and you don’t need to be anticipating my next move.”

“Stopping now,” Rowan chuckled, and Buffy could see the glow of his eyes turn away from her.

They were silent for several minutes.

“Could you stop for a moment doing... whatever it is that you’re doing?” Buffy asked. “I’d like to see if it’s getting any better.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think it could have, not without the antidote.”

“Please?”

“Alright,” Rowan said and immediately Buffy’s mind was assaulted like a dozen radios were blaring full volume at her from various locations in her room.

“No!” she screamed and covered her ears with her hands. After only a second or so the cacophony was once again muted by the incessant wave-like hissing. “Thank you,” she whispered after lowering her hands on her lap.

“Try to rest, Buffy,” Rowan said soothingly. “I’ll be here for you.”

Closing her eyes, the steady hum of the mental blanket Rowan was sending her way soon made Buffy drift to an exhausted sleep.

* * *

The thick leather gloves made Faith feel clumsy. The knife in her hand didn’t feel like an extension of her arm like it usually did but the Boss had said it was imperative she didn’t get any of the demon’s blood on her skin. Rosemount was the second cemetery she had swept tonight and now, standing in the doorway to the DeVries family crypt, she could see her prey in all of its milky-white, mouthless glory.

“Fuck me, but you’re even uglier in person,” she said quietly, remembering the picture the Boss had shown her before sending her out.

Realizing that neither the doorway nor the steps leading to the crypt’s lowered floor were the best locations for a knife fight, Faith slowly climbed over the cast iron railing of the stairs and dropped softly to the floor beside them. Never letting her gaze leave the demon, who just stood there watching her, she started a slow sideways slide along the wall to the right. When she had cleared the first corner, she leapt into action. Feinting right with the knife she crouched down low and attempted to sweep the demon’s legs. To her surprise the demon didn’t fall for the feint and jumped lightly over her sweeping leg. As Faith followed through the sweep and was back on her feet, the demon had already swung its fist and caught her in the ribs with a crunching blow. Faith felt like her whole ribcage had been shattered and her cry of pain echoed in the chamber.

Feeling like she couldn’t draw breath, Faith gritted her teeth and almost instinctively buried her knee in the demon’s gut. It bent over and her follow-up kick sent it face first to the wall behind it. Ignoring the almost blinding pain in her chest she closed in on the demon and buried her knife in its back. Glowing ichor spurted from the wound on her gloves and she expected to hear some kind of a noise indicating pain but none came. It was eerie and disquieting.

The demon turned around groggily, and Faith grabbed it by the throat. Still panting from the agony her ribs caused, she quickly pressed the blade against the demon’s throat below her hand and slashed horizontally with all the strength she could muster. The demon convulsed once and more of its blood oozed from the deep wound on her gloves. Letting the dead weight slide to the floor of the crypt Faith took support from the wall and attempted to get her breathing under control. When she thought she could operate again, she crouched slowly down in front of the now dead demon and laid the slumped form prone on the floor.

Just as she was about to start performing an autopsy on it, her Slayer sense warned her that a vampire was close.

* * *

Buffy was awakened from her sleep by a knock at her door.

“Honey, are you awake?” Joyce’s voice asked from the outside.

“Yeah, Mom. Come in,” Buffy called with a yawn.

Joyce opened the door slowly and came to sit on the edge of Buffy’s bed. “How are you doing, sweetie?” she asked, gently touching Buffy’s cheek.

“Like I’m inside a beehive,” Buffy said, rubbing her temples. “But it’s better than having boom-blasters at full volume blaring away from every direction.”

Both Summers women turned to the still figure sitting against the wall.

“Are you alright, dear?” Joyce asked.

“Doing ok, Joyce,” Rowan answered but his voice was tight from exertion.

“Rupert just called. He and Gwen have the components for the antidote almost ready. The final ingredient is the other demon’s heart. Angel is on his way to get it. It seems vampires are immune to the blood of these creatures. I thought you’d like to know as soon as possible.”

Buffy stared at Joyce in disbelief. “Angel? Angel’s doing this?”

“Yes, honey. Willow contacted him and he went immediately to Rupert and Gwen for information. He’s out now, hunting for the other demon. They’ll meet us here later.”

Joyce leaned in to kiss Buffy’s brow before standing up and turning to leave. “Try to get some more rest. It won’t be long now.”


	34. Chapter 34

“Now, let me guess. Brown hair, leather pants, a dead demon. You would be Faith,” an unfamiliar and deep voice from behind Faith startled her.

Getting slowly back to her feet with the knife still in her gloved hand, Faith saw a dark figure in the doorway to the crypt. Her Slayer sense confirmed that the newcomer was a vampire.

“Oh, goody. I’m famous,” Faith said lightly, trying to buy some time to get herself adjusted.

“I’m here for the demon’s heart,” Angel said. “You’ve done your slaying. Why not call it quits and no-one else needs to get hurt?”

“Sorry, fang, can’t do that,” Faith said, standing in front of the demon’s corpse. “Now, I’ll give you a chance to walk away and maybe get dusted another day.”

“You’re in no condition to fight,” Angel said evenly, walking down the few steps to the crypt floor. “Just go back to the Mayor and tell him you lost the fight. He’ll be none the wiser.”

“You must have some kind of an undeath wish, blood-breath,” Faith said, tossing the knife from glove to glove. She briefly wondered how the vampire knew she was doing this for the Mayor.

“I’m not leaving without the heart,” Angel said and, vamping out, charged the Slayer.

Faith managed to sidestep the attack but only barely. Her chest hurt like hell and she unconsciously avoided movements which would cause more damage to her ribs. Slashing with the knife she managed to score a hit, but Angel’s leather coat deflected the blow.

They started circling each other, both knowing they had to end this fight quickly; Faith because of her condition, Angel because of Buffy. Angel engaged first with a quick left punch, roundhouse kick combo. As Faith was trying more to avoid rather than block the powerful blows, she was forced to retreat across the room. She managed a feint with the knife, and her right hook made it past Angel’s defences. As he doubled over, Faith followed with a knee to the face. A wet crunch indicated that her knee had connected with the vampire’s nose. Pushing hard with a grimace, Faith managed to shove Angel against the opposite wall. He landed hard but managed to roll back to his feet.

“Why would a vampire risk his... whatever for the heart of a demon?” Faith asked approaching Angel with the knife reversed in her grasp.

“Why do you care?” Angel asked, wiping the blood from his face. “I guess it’s all the same to you if Buffy lives or dies.”

Faith froze on the spot at hearing these words, her arms suddenly losing all strength. Noticing the moment of hesitation, Angel lashed out with a spin kick and connected with Faith’s already damaged ribs.

The pain was excruciating, and Faith dropped to the floor unable to move. “Angel...,” she managed to gasp in sudden recognition before slowly falling over from her hands and knees to her back, barely able to breathe let alone speak.

She expected the vampire to finish the fight, and her, permanently. Instead, he stepped over her, extracted a slim dagger from a wrist sheath and crouched down in front of the prone demon. After a few expert cuts, Angel wrenched the demon’s chest cavity open and used the knife to cut the heart loose from the connected blood vessels. Without giving the injured Slayer another glance, Angel exited the crypt with the prize in his hand and started running for 1630 Revello Drive.

* * *

Giles and Gwen were mixing the antidote in the Summers’ kitchen while Joyce was pacing impatiently back and forth between the kitchen and the living room. “I can’t stand this,” she said, wringing her hands. Any second now she expected Rowan’s strength to finally run out and Buffy start screaming... and keep on screaming until she couldn’t scream any more.

Willow, Oz and Xander were sitting on the bottom steps of the staircase looking equally concerned. Willow was leaning against Oz’s chest and he had his arms circled around the redhead’s waist. Everyone froze when there was a frantic knocking at the door. Xander jumped up from where he was sitting and wrenched the door open. Angel stood there on the porch with his hands glowing with demon blood and the precious heart safely in his grip.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Xander said impatiently.

“Um, Joyce?” Angel called from the door.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Angel. Come in,” Joyce said with relief at seeing the vampire.

The Scoobies practically dragged the vampire by his leather coat to the kitchen where Giles and Gwen had just finished mixing the base.

“Angel, excellent,” Giles said and motioned him to the counter where a plastic chopping board and a kitchen knife lay waiting. “Please carve the heart into thin slices,” the ex-Watcher instructed. “And, Willow, would you?”

The redhead waved her hands over the bowl with the mixture, chanting, until a bright flash exploded from it. Reacting quickly, Giles dumped the contents of the bowl into a glass beaker half-full of thick, blue liquid. “Now, Angel,” Giles instructed and, making the final cut, the vampire scooped up the slices and dropped them into the beaker. As soon as the organic component touched the liquid mixture, the blue colour darkened, and the potion slowly turned self-luminous.

“That’s it,” Giles announced and raced up the stairs with the beaker in hand. The rest of the gang followed him.

Joyce helped Buffy to a semi-seated position and Giles brought the glowing beaker to her lips. Buffy coughed and spluttered but forced herself to swallow the foul-tasting liquid. Once the beaker was empty, everyone turned their attention to Rowan. He nodded and Buffy instinctively gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. But when the buzzing in her head vanished, it was gradually replaced by sweet silence as the antidote took effect. Letting out a deep, relieved sigh, Buffy let her eyes drift close. In seconds she was asleep, still being held by Joyce. A few seconds later there was a soft “thump” from the other side of the room. Rowan had keeled over, unconscious.

* * *

Lying on the cold crypt floor feeling nothing but pain, Faith briefly wanted to just let everything go. She was a failure; she had failed everyone. She could see her mother’s disapproving gaze and the silent shake of her head before she turned away. Diane, always the one to understand her, had a sorrowful look on her face before she too turned away. Buffy, with her arms around Willow and Xander walked away without a word. The Boss had trusted her to take care of a single demon, something that should have been a walk in the park. From there too the exasperated shake of the head. And Rowan... she couldn’t even let herself see the disappointment in those amber eyes.

She could feel the black veil of unconsciousness looming over her and she just knew that if she gave in to it, she would never wake up. This would be a fitting end to her tortured existence; dying alone in a crypt with an eviscerated, mouthless demon keeping her company. Taking a painful breath, she was on the verge of just giving up when a faint, lingering memory brought some focus back to her.

_“Help him?! Are you insane?”_

_“That’s debatable. But the fact is that we need someone inside and, in the current circumstances, you’re by far the best candidate; basically, the only candidate.”_

_“Why not just spy on him?”_

_“He would catch in on that immediately. The one inside needs to seem to be on his side in all aspects – to be working for him.”_

_“I... I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”_

_“Faith, I trust you. To protect you and the Scoobies, keeping contact with you will be close to impossible. But I do trust you.”_

_She didn’t say anything further; only nodded her head a few times, more to herself. Their hands touched briefly as Rowan handed her the bloody stake. Approximately five seconds afterwards Buffy came running at the scene._

Biting the bullet, hard, Faith rolled on her stomach and, with a sob, raised herself to her hands and knees. The exertion almost made her throw up but, with determination, she held her chest with one arm and used her other hand to take support from the wall.

Standing up was one of the hardest physical exercises she had ever done. Fighting against blacking out she eventually managed to get upright. Now, with both hands free, she hugged her chest tightly and started the slow and painful walk back to her apartment.

As she staggered through the cemetery gates, she stopped briefly. Her apartment was to the left and Sunnydale General to the right. She knew that her ribs and chest needed professional attention, but still she turned left. She was so focused on her destination that she missed the tingling of her Slayer senses. Just inside the cemetery gates, behind a large tree, a lit match suddenly illuminated an inhuman face.

“She just came out – empty-handed,” the one watching her painful progress spoke to a mobile phone.


	35. Chapter 35

Faith looked longingly at the 24/7 pharmacy as she crossed Maple Court. It had taken her perhaps an hour to get this far; a distance that she normally would have covered in less than twenty minutes. She hadn’t brought any money with her on this mission and shoplifting was out of the question in her condition. So, she gritted her teeth once again and concentrated on the remaining distance home.

Three more blocks, two more blocks, one more block.

Leaning against her apartment building, she slowly dug her hand into the front pocket of her pants where she kept the key. All adrenaline from the fight had worn off long ago and the small motion of her upper body was enough to make her pant for air. She knew she should have gone to the hospital but, this close to her own bed, she was not going to turn around anymore.

The elevator took ages to arrive and, being this close to her destination, each breath seemed to hurt more than the previous one. She was close to tears as she stumbled inside the car and leaned against the mirrored back wall.

Turning the key in the lock was an exercise in agony. She had to use the thumb and index finger of both hands to manage enough force to get the lock open. Inside, she just dropped the key and her jacket on the foyer carpet and headed straight for the bathroom.

“Faithy?”

Gasping with pain as she turned reflexively towards the sound, Faith saw that the Mayor was sitting at the table in the dark kitchen area.

“Boss?” Faith panted and took support from the back of the couch. “What...?”

Standing up and sliding his finger along the kitchen counter, Wilkins stepped to where she was standing. He examined his fingertip for any dust and, with a small shake of his head, cleaned his hand with his handkerchief.

“I was just concerned, Faith. You didn’t report back with any status of the job.”

Faith had tried to breathe shallowly but now the Mayor’s cold voice made her heart start beating with painful rate. “Sorry, Boss. I took quite a beating from the demon. It was like it could read my intentions. I managed to kill it but then Angel showed up...”

“Angel?” Wilkins asked sharply.

“Yeah,” Faith said hesitantly. “Never met him, but B... Buffy sort of nailed him to the ‘T’... dark, broody, sort-of gorgeous. Wasn’t he supposed to be kinda dead?”

“Well, he’s back now,” Wilkins said quietly, almost to himself. “He was Balthazar’s prisoner before the other Slayer and her friends freed him.”

A whirlwind of emotions passed through Faith’s mind at this announcement. First there was a gut-wrenching sadness. ‘He _now has Buffy._ ’ Then there was a stomach-tingling elation. ‘ _Buffy now has_ him.’ She didn’t know whether to be sick or do a totally inappropriate happy-dance, so she got back to business.

“He wanted the heart as well,” Faith explained quickly. “Of course, I wouldn’t give it to him, but he caught me in the ribs after the demon had already cracked them.”

“And did Angel tell you why he wanted the heart that bad?”

“Uh, no,” Faith lied hurriedly. “He sorta suggested I walk away and tell you I lost to the demon. Then there were mostly just punches and kicks.”

Wilkins looked at her speculatively for a few seconds. “This isn’t a free ride, young lady. I expect you to keep me impressed with your performance. Maybe staying at the City Hall for some time would help you focus.”

Believing that she had blown all her chances, Faith had to think quickly despite the pain. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she said meekly with her head held low. “It won’t happen again.”

“That’s my Faith,” Wilkins said cheerily and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Now, go get cleaned up and get some painkillers in you. Then it’s time for bed. Call me when you’re feeling better. Good night, Faithy.” With that the Mayor turned around and walked to the door.

“Night, Boss,” Faith said quietly to the receding back of the Mayor.

In the bathroom she took a bottle of pills from the mirrored cabinet. The label instructed to take two every three hours. She took four, trusting on her Slayer constitution to handle the dose. Undressing was unthinkable in her condition, so she just slowly washed her face and then carefully laid herself down on the bed.

She lay there, unmoving, for almost half-an-hour waiting for the medicine and Slayer healing to kick in. Lying there in the darkness with just the pain as her companion brought all kinds of dark thoughts to her mind.

Despite everything, the Mayor’s disappointment in her performance cut deeply. Whatever he was or was becoming, it was obvious that, on some deep level, he really cared for her. It was getting harder and harder to resist against that. And maybe what the Boss was attempting wasn’t all that bad after all. She had only Rowan’s description of what might happen after the Mayor Ascended. She shuddered involuntarily, wincing at the sudden flash of pain. Like the Boss had said; it all came down to trust. Who should she trust? The man who treated her almost like a favourite daughter and was attempting to become a demon, or an amber-eyed already-demon who made her feel... made her feel...

Exhaustion took over her and she slept without dreaming.

* * *

Buffy woke up to the glorious feeling that the only thoughts in her head belonged to just her. Noticing that she was alone in the room, she went to take a quick shower before putting on clean clothes and making her way downstairs to the kitchen.

She had just poured herself a glass of orange juice when Joyce walked in, holding a folded paper in her hand.

“Buffy! How are you feeling, honey?” Joyce asked with a mixture of worry and joy as she embraced her daughter.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Buffy said, enjoying being held by her mother. “Just Buffy inside.”

Taking a step back but still keeping her hands on Buffy’s arms, Joyce fixed the Slayer with a serious gaze. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Uh, busted,” Buffy said hesitantly, not having the slightest idea of what her mom was talking about. “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d mind,” she continued hoping to avoid any further trouble, whatever it was.

Joyce let out a small laugh and raised the folded paper in front of Buffy’s face. “You were accepted to Northwestern University? Honey, I’m so proud of you.”

Buffy sighed. She really didn’t want to have this discussion now. “Mom? I can’t go; you know that.”

Joyce looked at her daughter in confusion. “Why not? I mean, it’s not cheap. But I know we can make it if your father pitches in.”

Buffy leaned against the island keeping her eyes low. “I can’t go to Northwestern. I can’t go anywhere that isn’t the UC Sunnydale. I’m the... a Slayer and I just can’t leave.”

“Honey,” Joyce started with clear frustration in her voice. “Surely there is a way. Northwestern is such a prestigious school, one of the leading schools in the country; much more highly rated than UC Sunnydale. What about Faith? Even if you’ve had a falling-out, couldn’t she...?”

“Mom, please. Can we not do this right now?” Buffy almost pleaded. “What about last night? Where’s Rowan?” she continued, almost desperately wanting to change the subject.

Joyce sighed deeply. “Xander and Oz carried him to the guest room. He’s still unconscious.”

Buffy drained the rest of her juice and started for the stairs. Joyce called after her, but she tuned out the words. “Honey. Angel is...”

She climbed quietly upstairs, this time passing her own room. She hesitated briefly at the guest room door before pushing it slowly open. Rowan was lying on the bed, asleep, breathing steadily in and out. Buffy stood there, in the doorway, for perhaps a minute just taking in the relaxed smooth features of the exhausted... what was he really to her and them? A companion? A friend? The newest Scooby?

Before Buffy could make up her mind, or move either in or out, a hand on her shoulder shook her back to the present.

“Buffy?”

“Angel,” Buffy breathed out having spun around to face the one who had touched her. “I thought you’d left.”

“Joyce showed me the basement after we had made sure you were resting peacefully and,” Angel indicated to the guest room. “He was ok.”

“Angel, I...,” Buffy started with her back to the open guest room door.

“You don’t have to explain, Buffy,” Angel said quietly. “I understand that you...”

“That I what?” Buffy asked feeling anger rise within her. “You think...?” she asked looking over her shoulder.

Angel only looked at her with a stoic expression.

“Angel, no,” Buffy said heatedly. “I love you... You. He is... I don’t know what, but it doesn’t matter. God, can’t you understand? Every day, it’s just you.”

“Every day?” Angel asked with a painful expression. “Shouldn’t that be ‘every night’?”

“What are you...?” Buffy asked feeling her throat constrict painfully.

They stood there facing each other for a full minute, so many unsaid things hanging between them. When Angel opened his mouth, Buffy could almost hear the fateful words “break up” in what he said until her brain caught up.

“What?” she asked in confusion, certain she had heard incorrectly.

“Faith,” Angel answered quietly. “She was there. She had already killed the demon and was going for the heart when I showed up.”

“Are you sure it was...?”

“Brown hair, leather pants, strong as hell.”

“That would be her,” Buffy conceded feeling her heart sink even lower. “What happened?”

“She didn’t recognize me, initially. We fought but she was pretty beaten up from the fight against the demon, so I was able to... incapacitate her. I took the heart and left her there.”

Buffy felt such anger and hurt that she thought she would scream or lash out... or both... or anything. The only reason for Faith to have been after the heart was to prevent her from being cured. Faith had deliberately gone out to cause her hurt, maybe even to get her killed. First Willow, now her. Who would Faith go after next? Her gaze shifted almost against her will over her shoulder to the dim guest room. The next she knew she had her arms wrapped around Angel and she was crying raw, painful tears against the vampire’s shirt.

“Buffy,” Angel said quietly, kissing the top of Buffy’s head. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Buffy hiccoughed. She lifted her eyes up to meet his. “It’s all of you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Angel said with conviction. “Nor him,” he continued and inclined his head towards the guest room.

Buffy wondered what had happened between Angel and Rowan to make the vampire’s outlook on the... right, what was he really? Boy? Guy? Young One? Demon? She wished she had Faith’s knack for nicknames. Well, “B” wasn’t the world’s most innovative nickname, but it was _hers_. “Bright Eyes” was almost too cool to be real, but Buffy knew that she would never be able to call Rowan that.

Anyway, something had happened to make Angel more reserved about Rowan. She wanted to ask Angel about that, but the vampire interrupted her thoughts.

“Let’s go downstairs. Joyce said she’d fix breakfast for you.”

In the guest room Rowan opened his eyes when he heard the two make their way downstairs. He made his way quietly to Buffy’s room, picked up her phone and dialled a number.

* * *

Faith woke up to an insistent knocking at the door. ‘ _Boss,_ ’ she thought briefly until she realized that the Mayor would not have bothered to knock. She sat up carefully, gritting her teeth, but the blindingly sharp pain was gone. Her chest still hurt and her ribs ached, but it was good pain, comparatively, meaning that she was on the mend. Rolling out of the bed to her feet she tiptoed to the kitchen area where she grabbed a carving knife. Sunlight was shining in from between the partly open curtains meaning that it was at least noon already. She made it quietly to the foyer.

“Yeah?” she asked with her ear to the door.

“Slayer?” came a guttural question from the hallway. Not a human voice.

“Who’s asking?” Faith asked non-committal with her hand on the doorknob.

“Willy sent m...,” the voice had time to say until Faith jerked the door open an pulled the person standing in the hallway inside. She pushed the caller against the wall and had her knife against their throat.

“Speak,” she growled to the hooded creature.

“Please, I’m just a messenger,” came the pitiful reply.

Faith pulled the creature’s hood back, not too gently. What was revealed was definitely a demon but, to her recollection, one of the peaceful kinds. She had encountered their type at Willy’s before.

“I’m not expecting a message,” Faith snarled and pushed the knife a little deeper against the creature’s throat.

“It’s a delivery; just a delivery,” the demon almost sobbed. Looking down, Faith could see that it had a gift-wrapped package in its hand.

“What’s this?”

“I don’t know, I swear,” the demon said almost hyper-ventilating. “Willy paid me this morning to deliver it to this address at noon.”

“Drop it,” Faith commanded.

“Please, Miss Slayer.”

“Drop it and get out.”

Hearing the package hit the floor, Faith eased the knife from the throat of the demon. Stepping back and leaving a path outside, she watched as the creature staggered to the door and was gone. What was left behind was a rectangular package maybe 15” long, 4” wide and 1.5” tall, wrapped in blue gift paper and tied with a golden ribbon.

She picked up the parcel and shook it carefully. It was heavy for its size, meaning that most likely something made of metal was inside. She took it with her to the kitchen and laid it on the table in front of her. The creature had said that it was from Willy, meaning that the barkeep was acting as a middleman for someone. There was no way Willy would have accepted something volatile to be delivered, so Faith pulled the bow tie open and ripped the gift paper apart.

Inside was a plain, white cardboard box. Faith opened it.


	36. Chapter 36

Inside the box was a sheathed knife. Faith just stared at it for a minute until she picked it up with trembling fingers. Unsheathing it carefully, she was left with her mouth hanging open. The knife was simply beautiful. It was of functional design with a straight, almost black, double-edged blade. The brass cross-guard was simple but elegant and the grooved handle felt just right in her hand.

Testing the blade against her finger made her brow furrow. It felt dull, like a letter opener. Feeling that this must have been a prank by the Boss, she tossed the knife onto the table where it hit the lid of the box. The cardboard was neatly cut in two.

Blinking a few times, Faith picked the knife again and looked closely at the blade. It looked pretty fucking sharp, but when she tested it with her finger again, it felt just as dull as on the first try. She picked up the box the knife had come in to test the blade again, and it was then that she noticed the small card inside the box. The card had writing on it; four words written in neat but archaic-looking handwriting.

“ _I’ll stand by you._ ”

The knife dropped from her fingers tip first and was embedded an inch into the floor. She buried her face in her hands. It didn’t take long until the first quiet sob made her shoulders shake.

* * *

“I think you should go,” Angel said quietly as they were sitting together in the semi-dark kitchen after Buffy had finished her breakfast. Heavy curtains kept the sunlight outside.

“I knew you would agree that I can’t... What?”

“You should go to Northwestern, Buffy. Get yourself a first-rate education.”

“What...? Hello! Hellmouth, Mayor, Ascension, Faith?”

Buffy’s head was spinning. She had been explaining for five minutes why she couldn’t leave Sunnydale, and now Angel had calmly told her that she should go. The truth was that she _wanted_ , desperately, to leave the Hellmouth behind her, even if it was just for a semester at a time. Angel, Giles, Gwen and Rowan were more than capable enough to keep the everyday supernatural business under control, regardless of what Willow, Oz and Xander eventually decided to do. But it stung to hear Angel so easily suggest a separation. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? She would insist on leaving, and he would do his best to try to keep her near him; try to dissuade her from going away.

Angel covered her hand with his on the island.

“You’ll stop the Mayor before the Ascension and take care of Faith. You’re the Slayer and you always pull through.”

“You’re right, Angel,” Buffy said and straightened her back. “And I’m going to tell them that.”

If it only were that easy.

* * *

“I can’t believe you got into Oxford, Will,” Buffy said with a sad smile as she, Willow and Oz were sitting around a table in the school yard.

“It’s pretty exciting,” Willow said trying to sound nonchalant.

“Get into some deep academia there,” Oz said, holding Willow’s hand.

“Isn’t that where they make Gileses?” Xander asked from where he was sitting under a nearby tree reading a book.

“I know,” Willow said with a grin. “I could learn and have scones and five o’clock teas.” She saw immediately that her attempt at humour was lost on Buffy. “Buffy, what is it?”

“I got into Northwestern. Mom and Angel want me to go.”

“Buffy, that’s great! I’m so proud of you!” Willow almost shouted, bouncing up and down on her bench. Academic achievements always made her excited. Then she sobered up. “Why do you look like you have to repeat senior year?”

Buffy sighed. It had all made so much sense in the morning. “The Mayor, Ascension, Faith, Hellmouth. Will, I want to leave, so much. But I’m afraid I’m stuck here. At least I got into UC Sunnydale, but still.”

“To be honest, I don’t know how I feel about going to school in a foreign country,” Willow said awkwardly, seeing Buffy’s inner struggle.

“‘Everything in life is foreign territory’,” Xander quoted and snapped his copy of “On the Road” shut. “Kerouac. He’s my teacher. The open road, my school.”

“Making the open dumpster your cafeteria,” Buffy said, managing a genuine smile. Trust Xander to lighten up her mood.

“I think it’s neat, this ‘Happy Wanderer’ thing you’re doing,” Willow said with a smile of her own.

“I just think it’ll be good for me,” Xander said, standing up. “Help me to find myself.”

“And help us to lose you,” Cordelia said stepping into view from behind the tree. “Everyone’s a winner.”

Xander and Cordelia had been able to avoid each other quite well since the... thing at the factory in December. He would have liked nothing better than for it to continue.

“Well, well, well,” Xander said and stood up. “Look who has just popped open a fresh can of venom. Have you been practicing your lines these past few months? Hey, did you hear about Willow getting into just about every college in the world. Oxnard...”

“Ford,” Willow corrected.

“... MIT, Yale, and as in your face I rub it.”

“Tea bag central, Clearasil ad and dumping ground for those who didn’t get into Harvard,” Cordelia counted off with her fingers.

“I did,” Willow said quietly.

“So, any clue which college you might be attending so we can start calculating minimum safe distance?” Xander asked with a sneer.

“None of your business. Definitely nowhere near you losers.”

“Hey, Cordy,” Buffy interjected. “Don’t forget to breathe between insults.”

“Sorry, Buffy,” Cordelia said, turning away. “This conversation is reserved for those who actually have a future.”

Buffy felt like an icy hand had gripped her heart. She could hardly breathe.

“So much anger,” Oz murmured quietly as they watched Cordelia’s receding back.

“Don’t pay any attention, Buffy,” Willow said sympathetically seeing that the final insult had really hurt her best friend. “She was just being Cordelia, only more so.” She turned to Xander. “You shouldn’t have goaded her so much.”

“Can’t help it,” Xander shrugged. “It’s my nature.”

* * *

“Buffy, please listen to me,” Gwen pleaded as the Slayer followed her into the library.

“No, you don’t understand. I. Want. To. Leave.”

“I wish there was a way, Buffy, but you can’t leave now.”

“No, not now!” Buffy almost shouted in exasperation. “After I graduate. College?”

Giles came out of the office holding a cup of tea. “Buffy, we’ve talked about you going away...,” he said gently.

“I got into Northwestern,” Buffy countered quickly.

Giles’ face was lit by a fond smile. “That’s wonderful news. Good for you.”

“But, Buffy,” Gwen continued. “You’re needed here. Hellmouth. Monsters. Demons. World in peril. You’re a Slayer.”

“Well, you can’t just define me by my Slayerness,” Buffy said petulantly. “That’s... something-ism.”

Gwen sighed. “I wish it wouldn’t come to that, but by the power vested in me by the Council I could forbid you to leave. I don’t want to do that.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Buffy snarled in frustration... and took a step back when Gwen straightened her back and narrowed her eyes. It made the Watcher look like the Old Gwen was back.

“Buffy, the Council can make your acceptance into Northwestern disappear,” Gwen stated with steel in her voice. “Don’t push your luck.”

A long silence hung in the air between the three of them. Buffy had almost forgotten that, despite everything that had happened, the young Watcher wasn’t just a push-over.

“What if I stop the Ascension?” Buffy decided to lay her cards on the table. “What if I capture Faith?”

“I certainly hope you will,” Giles said almost inaudibly with the cup on his lips. Neither Buffy nor Giles noticed the brief look of sorrow on Gwen’s face when Faith was mentioned.

“If I do that, all you guys have to do is keep the run-of-the-mill unholy forces at bay through midterms and I’ll be back in time for Homecoming; and every school break after that.”

Gwen shook her head sadly, back to her new and improved self. “Perhaps if circumstances were different...”

“Then I’ll make them different,” Buffy stated crossing her arms.

“What?” both Gwen and Giles said in synch.

“I’m tired of waiting for the Mayor to make a move while we just count down to Ascension Day. Let’s take the fight to them.”

“No, Buffy. That’s too reckless,” Gwen said. “We still know nothing about the Ascension itself.”

“Buffy’s right,” Giles stated sharply. Both Buffy and Gwen turned to look at him. “Time’s running out. We need to take the offensive. What’s your plan, Buffy?”

“I gotta have a plan?” Buffy said with a grimace. “Really?”

“Well, if you want to take the fight to them, the first step is to find out what they’re up to,” Giles said with a small smile as he brought the teacup to his lips.

“I actually knew that,” Buffy said lightly. “I thought you meant a more specific plan with maps. Right, let’s find out what they’re up to.”

“Are you sure about this, Buffy?” Gwen asked quietly, fixing the Slayer’s eyes with a steady gaze.

“Yes,” Buffy said without hesitation.

“Then I’ll support you all the way; as a Watcher should.”

“Really?” Buffy’s face was lit with a radiant smile.

“Yes, Buffy,” Gwen smiled back. “I think I learned my lesson the hard way.”

* * *

“I see you’re already feeling better, Faith,” Wilkins said and offered her a plate of cookies.

Faith took one and leaned back in the guest chair. “Five by five, Boss. Just small aches here and there. Gotta love the Slayer healing.”

“That’s good to hear,” Wilkins said. “Because I have a new task for you.”

“The artefact?” Faith asked, remembering their earlier discussion.

“You’re one heck of a girl, you know that?” the Mayor said with a laugh. “Smart, capable, pretty.”

Faith raised an eyebrow, but Wilkins raised a warning finger in response.

“A package is arriving tomorrow from Central America. Something, and I can’t stress this enough, something crucially important to my Ascension. Without it... Well, what would Toll House cookies be without the chocolate chips?”

Faith looked at the large cookie in her hand.

“A pretty darn big disappointment, I can tell you,” Wilkins continued. “Here, have another,” he offered the plate to Faith. “Mr Trick will be here in five with details about the task.”

* * *

“The courier will arrive in a Cessna at the Sunnydale Airport at seven tomorrow evening,” Mr Trick read from a memo pad. “The plane will taxi to hangar three where it will be met by the limo. The courier will exchange the package for a briefcase which will be in the custody of the driver.”

Faith’s brow furrowed. This seemed like a simple transaction. Where was the need for her?

The Mayor must have seen her expression. “This whole transaction needs to be conducted in absolute secrecy,” Wilkins explained. “I need you to sweep the perimeter before the plane’s arrival. And after the exchange, well, I can’t risk that any word or it reaches the wrong ears.”

“Kill the courier?” Faith asked.

“Kill the courier,” the Mayor nodded.

“No problem.” One less demon in the world. And if the inevitable vampire chauffeur got into the firing line... well, she had always wanted to drive a limo.

“Really?” Wilkins asked with a dry chuckle. “I don’t think you fully understand the task.”

“I got it, Boss. Clean the area, kill the demon courier, deliver the package.”

“Not exactly, Faith,” Wilkins said looking into her eyes. “Kill the _human_ courier.”

“Boss?” Faith asked hesitantly, uncertain that she had heard correctly. A terrible coldness was creeping up her spine.

“I see you’re beginning to understand now.” The Mayor’s smile was suddenly cold. “This is a test, Faith; a test of your loyalty. Also, a chance to redeem yourself after the failure with the heart. Will you do as you said you’d gladly do or are you having second thoughts?”

“I’m with you, Boss,” Faith replied emotionlessly. She knew she was trapped. She felt totally empty. Her life was over, one way or another. She would have to kill a man, become a murderer for real, or she would be killed instead.

“Cheer up, Faith,” Wilkins said cheerfully, again his jovial self. “This is a small task in the grand scheme of things. Oh, and I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Faith was still too dumb-struck to answer or move as the Mayor rose from his chair and walked to the small mini-bar area at the back of the office. There was a “click” and the entire wall unit slid to one side. That made Faith turn around.

Behind the bar was a large vault. Weapons of all kind hung from the back wall. There were various arcane items on the shelves. She could also see the set of five books she had taken from the demon inside the vault.

“Just a few of my favourite weapons,” the Mayor said dismissively but his fond look belied the indifference. He picked up a short sword from its holder. Faith went into alert immediately. From the corner of her eye she could see that Mr Trick had moved behind her. She forced herself to relax.

“I want you to pick something from here, Faith, for the pickup tomorrow. How about this?” the Mayor brandished the sword. “Finest Damascus steel.”

Faith shook her head silently and rose from the chair. She had already made her choice. With stiff and jerky movements, she made her way to the vault and picked up a camo-patterned compound bow and a quiver with a few arrows inside.

“Go home, Faith,” Wilkins said soothingly. “I expect you to be back tomorrow at 9 pm, at the latest, with the... package.”


	37. Chapter 37

Faith didn’t go “home”. She wasn’t sure she could ever go there again. Her... no, the Mayor’s place suddenly felt like a prison, but she couldn’t go to her old place either. She would go to the motel for the night, and for as many nights afterwards as needed; if such a thing as “afterwards” existed in her future. She was pretty sure the Boss would know where she went anyway but Buffy and the Scoobies would never look for her there, not after such a long time.

She just walked in a daze with her thoughts in disarray and turmoil, and pretty soon she realized where her feet were taking her; the warehouse district – Willy’s. Her Slayer sense tingled faintly; she was being tailed. This time she paid it no mind. If she dusted this one, another one would just take its place. Anyway, she was convinced that there was no way she would be allowed to skip town before completing the task.

She crossed the railroad tracks and looked briefly at the familiar row of dumpsters where this long nightmare had started. She wanted to curse Buffy and she wanted to curse Rowan. But she realized that ever since setting her foot in that alley, all her subsequent choices had been severely limited. Did her not killing of the Deputy Mayor have any effect on her current predicament as compared to having actually killed him? If it had been Buffy there with her instead of having just left to do additional reconnaissance, would it have ended differently? What if it had been just her, alone?

Regardless, every step she now took was one step closer to her becoming a real murderer – or a victim of the same. What could she do? If she followed the Mayor, he would eventually Ascend and become... uber-powerful. He could protect her then from outside forces, but could he protect her from herself?

She touched the knife stuck under her belt behind her back.

Rowan had sent it to her, at least she was 90% sure it was him, just when she was in the throes of self-doubting. She had briefly felt like she was thrown to the wolves when he had... asked her to undertake the mission without any guaranteed backup support... but the gift had shown that he cared; that she wasn’t just abandoned to her fate. The Boss had given her an apartment, he had given her a knife. Right now, she valued the knife higher than the flat. What did he feel for her, if anything? Faith had no illusions that he could ever care for her the way she sometimes secretly imagined. She had nothing; she was nothing except a second-rate Slayer with more issues than the yearly subscription of a magazine.

And Buffy. Up until that fateful night in the alley, things between them had been almost everything Faith could ever hope for. Was all that now gone, forever? In Buffy’s eyes she was a traitor and there was only one person who could clear her. It seemed that everything went back to Rowan.

She remembered Rowan telling Xander that he was neither gay nor straight. That was something Faith could relate to. She had always taken pleasure where she could find it. Why limit it to just half of the available selection? And what about those she regarded as seriously belonging to her “current selection”? Angel was now back and, obviously, Buffy must have eyes only for him. It had been pretty evident in what Buffy told her that the vampire was the love of her life. She could accept that. She valued Buffy’s friendship, if such a thing existed anymore, too much to try to insert a wedge between her sister Slayer and the vampire. Smiles, some banter and good-natured flirting, some handholding, maybe even a few kisses. She would be glad to have even that.

Then there was the... other one she regarded as belonging to her current selection. Rowan. He made her so confused. She was white trash, to put it bluntly, and he was... something unreachable. How could someone like him ever take an interest in her? But for some reason he had. He had met her “attacks” blow-for-blow, never giving an inch’s advantage to her. And he regarded Faith as someone he could trust the future of their lives on, maybe the future of the whole world. He had requested she take on this mission and fully trusted her to come through. He hadn’t abandoned her; the knife was a living proof of that but, on the other hand, he had not put any pressure on her to do things just one possible way. She was a Slayer and that had been enough for him...

Suddenly Faith realized that she was standing in front of Willy’s. That brought her back to the here and now and she went inside.

This time her entry was much less dramatic than the previous one but still the reaction of the patrons was the same; they scrambled for the back door. In the back of her mind she was grateful. It meant she didn’t have to wait for her turn at the bar.

“What is it, Faith?” Willy asked coldly. “You take pleasure in disrupting my business?”

Faith was in no mood for a heart-to-heart. She slammed a $50 bill on the bar. “A bottle of JD and a glass. And once you see the bottle is close to empty, you’ll bring another one. And no fucking questions.”

She took the bottle and glass Willy set on the bar without another word and retreated to the farthest and dimmest corner booth she could find. She filled the glass almost to the brim and tossed it back. She almost choked but filled the glass again and repeated the performance.

In her peripheral vision she could see that the customers were warily returning back to the bar. She was given a wide space of privacy, though; both adjacent booths stayed empty despite the half-drunk glasses and half-eaten meals on the tables. She filled her glass for the third time and yelled “cheers” from the top of her lungs. The sudden silence in the bar was somewhat satisfying. She emptied the glass.

As she lowered the glass, she noticed that the previous occupant had left a ballpoint pen on the table. There was also an unused napkin next to the pen. Suddenly an idea struck her. She had to do it now while she still had most of her mental faculties intact. Afterwards she would take a few more drinks until she had ingested enough liquid courage to put the plan into action.

“Keep it down, Faith,” Willy whispered to her as he passed by to clean the booth next to her.

“Why?” she giggled. What was that? Faith Lehane didn’t giggle. “I’d welcome some action; normal every-day demon action.”

“What are you doing?” Willy asked her with what seemed to be real concern.

“‘M on my way to the land of the trashed. Can’t see it yet without a telescope,” she slurred and giggled again at her eloquence. She would eventually need another bottle. She could still hear the Boss’ cold words telling her to kill a human. She craved for total oblivion; to forget today and not have to think about tomorrow.

“Faith, please. I’ll refund you. Just... go home and sleep it off.”

Faith grabbed the lapel of Willy’s shirt almost absentmindedly. She brought the bartender’s face a few inches away from her own. “You will bring me another bottle once this one is empty,” Faith articulated with great precision. “And once that one is less than half-full, you come back and remind me of the ‘task’, clear?”

“Crystal,” Willy squeaked and, once Faith had released her, retreated back behind the bar. He kept a constant vigil on Faith’s bottle as the level of liquid within fell.

* * *

“Faith?”

“Mmmm?”

“Faith!?”

“Whut? Whassamatter?”

“The task, Faith,” a concerned voice slowly penetrated the haze in her mind and an insistent hand on her shoulder shook her.

“Lemme ‘lone.”

“The second bottle is less than half-full and you looked like you were about to pass out.”

“‘M not gonna pass out. ‘M on my way to the land... to someplace.”

“Please, drink this.”

“Best fucking idea ever... What the f... Coffee?”

* * *

After a few minutes Faith had sobered temporarily enough to be able to fix her eyes on Willy without seeing him in double.

“So?” Willy asked her and looked around to see that no-one was paying attention to them. Just a trashed Slayer and a concerned bartender. Nothing to cause any alarm.

Under the bottle in front of her, Faith noticed a napkin with a name and a phone number written on it. Her handwriting; the name had five letters. Someone, but most definitely not her, had also decided to be a joker. There were a few hearts doodled around the name.

“Willy,” she started haltingly, unable to keep the emotions back. Unwanted tears were making their way to her eyes. “Call this number. And if an older English dude answers, ask for... the guest of the house. Once you have... him on the line, tell him to be at the airport tomorrow evening at seven. Then, burn it.”

“The same... guy who sent you the package?” Willy asked quietly, surprising Faith.

“It doesn’t matter,” Faith sighed and stood up, swaying. “Not anymore, perhaps ever again.”

“Faith...”

“You’re ok, Willy,” Faith said and patted the bartender on the shoulder. “Hang tough.”

With that, Faith shouldered the bow and quiver. Then, with the almost empty bottle of JD in her hand, she left the bar.

* * *

Faith stumbled, staggered and giggled her way across down-town Sunnydale to the motel. It was a route she knew well, regardless of her condition. Her brain was so full of fluff that she didn’t realize that, from about half-way on, she was being followed by three vampires. They were grinning in anticipation as the trashed Slayer wobbled all over the sidewalk.

She took a long swig from the bottle and, noticing it was empty, threw it away with all the strength she could muster. The next she knew, something had hit her in the back of the head, hard, and she found herself face down on the pavement. Strong hands gripped her arms painfully and she was thrown against a chain-link fence from which she rebounded like it was a trampoline. Her rebound was met with a fist to the face.

* * *

Xander was feeling light-headed as he drove the turquoise convertible along Orchard Street. He had wheels! He was the Car Guy! Well, to be exact, the car was rented from Uncle Rory as his DUIs got stacked up once again, but, man, did it feel good. This was what he wanted when the school was over; to be on the road.

He focused and braced himself when he saw someone being assaulted by three persons against a fence ahead of him. Two of the attackers where holding the victim’s arms while the third one was taking his time in pummelling the one being held to a pulp. It didn’t take long for Xander to notice that at least the main culprit was a vampire. Judging it carefully, he floored the gas and aimed for the one doing the punching. His task was made easier as the victim managed to connect their foot with the attacker’s stomach and he was driven backwards for a few steps.

His aim was perfect and the main vampire was practically torn apart as he slammed on it at 60 mph. Braking with full force, Xander switched to reverse and drove back at the scene. The victim was a brown-haired girl who could barely stand up if not for being held up by the other two vampires. He braked in front of them and held up his trusty old cross. The vampires recoiled with a hiss and the girl collapsed to the ground. Jumping out of the car, Xander brandished the cross at the vampires while helping the girl to her feet.

“Don’t... need... fucking... help,” the girl slurred.

“Faith?”

* * *

Sweeping the unsteady Slayer in his arms, Xander lifted her in the front seat. The two vampires were advancing on them again as he couldn’t hold up both the cross and Faith at the same time.

Having dumped the obviously drunk Slayer in the car, Xander made his way to the driver’s seat holding the cross in front of him. He noticed a bow and a quiver, obviously Faith’s, on the ground and tossed them in the back seat.

“You’re weak,” one of the vampires mocked him. “You don’t believe.”

Gritting his teeth, Xander held the cross in front of him as the vampires closed in on the car. It was hard, getting the car in gear again, with his concentration split between the approaching demons and the ignition.

Eventually he got it in “drive” and once again put the pedal to the metal.

“Where to?” he yelled at the limp girl beside him.

“Motel,” Faith groaned. “The motel.”

Faith’s old motel was just half-a-mile ahead and Xander made it in record time. In the rear-view mirror he could see that the vampires were following them at a leisure pace.

He parked the car just beside the stairs leading to the second floor where the rooms were. Rushing to the passenger side he opened the door and helped Faith to her feet. He had to steady the girl with an arm around her waist as they made their way up the stairs.

“Which room?” Xander panted, hoping that Faith had at least some weaponry stored inside. He also wasn’t going to risk his limbs by attempting to go through Faith’s pockets for the key.

“No room... Was just gonna... get one,” Faith mumbled.

“Great,” Xander groaned and, deciding to trust his luck, kicked the nearest door in.


	38. Chapter 38

The room they entered was empty. Xander knew that the two vampires would be following them there and arrive in just a few short minutes. Laying Faith gently on the bed he quickly opened the drawers and closets in the room. In the corner of the wardrobe was an old stirrup pump. Besides that, he was unable to find anything that could be used as a weapon. Then an idea hit him.

He rushed back to the car and opened the trunk. He breathed in relief on seeing a gasoline canister securely tied to the side of the trunk. He took a quick look around but couldn’t see the vampires yet. He knew they were close, and that his success depended on them not seeing him with the canister. Grabbing also Faith’s bow and quiver from the back seat, he ran back inside.

* * *

Xander heard slow and purposeful steps closing in on their door.

“You’re not invited,” he yelled, not having to fake the trembling in his voice.

The reply was a cruel laughter. “Fool. We don’t need to be invited to a motel room. Give us the Slayer and we’ll let you go... this time.”

The door was pushed forcefully open and the two grinning vampires were met with spray after spray of foul-smelling liquid.

“What the...?” the slower one said stupidly. The quicker one had already turned around to flee. The last sound they both heard was a “foomph” and then there was heat and they stayed warm for the rest of their existence.

* * *

Xander threw the pack of matches on the TV table and pushed the stirrup pump to a corner. Then he turned to check on Faith. Unable to help it, his heart started beating faster and his breathing turned to almost panting as he took in the very sexy girl splayed on the bed in front of him. Squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds, he tried to concentrate. Here was a friend... no, an enemy who had betrayed them and hurt both Willow and Buffy. But it was so hard to feel anger or resentment with one who looked so young, innocent and vulnerable lying there on the bed with a bruised face and laboured breath.

Drawing a deep breath himself, he went to stand beside the bed and shook Faith’s shoulder.

“Faith?”

“Whassup?” came the slurred reply.

“Please, are you hurt badly?”

Faith blinked her eyes a few times and sat up on the bed.

“Motherfucker dislocated my shoulder,” she muttered and stood unsteadily up. Her eyes were unfocused. “Hold me.”

Bye, bye, breath. “Umm... Faith?” Xander said looking everywhere except at the swaying girl in front of him. He just stood there as Faith closed the distance between them and raised her left arm in his armpit. She put her right hand on his chest and then twisted sharply. There was a “click” and then the Slayer took a step back and tested her left arm. “Better,” she murmured.

“Uh, Faith? I think you need to rest now,” Xander said in a voice that seemed to be pitched at least an octave higher than normally.

“You think?” Faith said unsteadily. Her head was turning this way and that, her eyes not focusing on Xander as they swept over him. “You know what I think? I think you don’t have what it takes to handle me, Bright Eyes.”

“Faith? I really think you should...,” Xander said, feeling a panic rise inside when she realized that Faith was not really there with him.

“Bet you’ve never known the touch of a real woman,” Faith said huskily and pushed herself against Xander with her hands sliding up and down his chest.

“Faith, please...”

“Please? Not really figured you for one to beg. But I can make you beg... for more.”

With that Xander was flying. He landed on the bed and, in a flash, Faith had straddled his waist. Her eyes were still unfocused, but her hands knew what they were doing. Gathering the last reserves of his resolve, Xander attempted to push the Slayer away from him. Faith grabbed both his hands and held them easily in one of hers as she used the other one to get his pants down to his knees. Then she manoeuvred her own pants off her and Xander was lost.

The neatly trimmed bush between Faith’s long and slender legs was mesmerizing and Xander couldn’t take his eyes away from it. It barely registered in his hormone-invaded brain that Faith had slipped his hard cock out of his boxers and was now fondling it with a soft touch. It definitely registered when Faith rose up briefly, guided his cock underneath her and sat down on it. The feeling when he sank slowly into her tight and wet depths eclipsed everything he had ever experienced in his life. It felt wonderful, it felt right... this was so wrong.

“No...,” he moaned as Faith started moving up and down on top of him. She had let go of his hands at some point but Xander never noticed when. They were now gripping the bed sheets almost painfully. He wanted to slide his hands along Faith’s firm thighs. He wanted to grab the magnificent breasts hanging above him. He couldn’t move his hands an inch.

“Not taking no for an answer,” Faith panted, still looking somewhere distant. “Expected you’d be more of a challenge,” she continued, throwing her head back as she expertly gyrated her hips around. Without her realizing it, her hands were slowly making their way up from Xander’s chest.

* * *

“Faith...” The voice seemed to come from a distance. “Faith...” This time she could register the panic in the voice.

Faith’s eyes snapped open and she froze in shock. Her hands were around Xander’s throat. The boy was slowly turning blue in the face and he was grasping at her wrists feebly. Underneath her his body twisted and buckled... and also inside her.

“What the...?” she gasped and leapt out of... bed? She was panting and sweaty, and she watched in shock as Xander’s cock spurted one final gob of semen which landed on his stomach. He raised his hands to his throat and drew painful-sounding rattling breaths.

Faith raised her hands to her temples and backed away until her back hit the wall. She slid slowly down to the floor, shaking her head. She still felt more than a little drunk, but the shock had sobered her somewhat. Images started flashing through the haze. Willy’s... lots of drinks... was there something about a task...? Hits, punches, pain... Rescue... Burning vampires... And she had thought that it was... She had fucked Xander.

She had to kill a human.

Outside her vision she could hear Xander shuffling around.

“Faith...,” she heard the boy’s hesitant, rasping voice.

“Get out,” she snarled.

“Faith...”

“Get out before I kill you!” she almost screamed, still not raising her head.

She heard the door open and close. Then she let the tears flow.

* * *

Xander stood there, outside the motel room, with unblinking eyes. He had his boxers up but his pants were pooled around his ankles. His t-shirt and button-up shirt were rumpled in his convulsive grasp. Breathing hurt but he still took in the cool night air in deep lungfuls, welcoming the pain it caused.

Was this the Walk of Shame he had heard rumours about? That feeling was definitely raising its head back there in the deep recesses of his mind. He had slept with the enemy. He had been unable to do anything about it and, he realized, he hadn’t really wanted to. “You’re weak,” the vampire had taunted him and now he knew that he was. He knew that if Faith were to open the door behind him and beckon him back inside, he would go... like a fish being reeled in.

Breathplay! That’s what it had to have been. Faith hadn’t really meant to strangle him; she was just into the kinky stuff. It made sense... it made total sense...

Then another bang of shame hit him. Faith had thought he was Rowan, and he had been unable to set her straight. Had he cheated on a friend? He didn’t know if there had been something between Faith and Rowan, but it was impossible they would be seeing each other anymore, behind everyone’s back, now that Faith had joined the “dark side”. But the Slayer definitely had something for his raven-haired friend. Xander snorted; who didn’t...?

Pulling his pants up he made his way slowly to the car. He sat there behind the steering wheel for a long time looking at the motel room door. He should have felt used; he should be feeling rightful anger for being used and then dumped. Those would probably surface in time but, right there, he realized that he was now a man. He had entered the motel room as a boy and walked out, shamefully or not, as a man.

He was a man and he had wheels. The Mayor wouldn’t stand a chance.

* * *

Faith woke up to the extremely unpleasant feeling of her stomach cramping and her throat convulsing. She didn’t have time to take in her surroundings as she rushed to the bathroom and emptied her stomach in the toilet. She gurgled, gagged and retched as foul-smelling liquid made its way out of her mouth and nose again and again. She was shivering with cold sweat and her skin felt clammy. Crawling to the shower she just sat there on the floor letting the warm water wash over her. Only then did she realize where she was; the motel. Panic hit her, and she felt like throwing up again. Xander. The Scoobies would know sooner or later where she was. But where could she go? She knew the answer before having even formulated the question. She had to go back to her apartment, the one the Boss had given her. The feeling of being trapped was stronger than ever. She rested her head against her bent-up knees and hugged her shins. She rocked herself slowly from side to side.

This was the day. There was a murder waiting to be done and the clock was ticking.

* * *

“Vampires,” Buffy repeated with a blank expression as they sat around the library table.

“Three,” Xander said in a low voice. Talking still hurt. “Nailed one with the car. The other two... couldn’t stand the heat.”

“And they were...?”

“Hurting a girl.”

“And she decided to show her eternal gratitude by almost strangling you?”

“It was... consensual – breathplay. Just forgot the safe word in all the excitement.”

“That was really stupid, Xander,” Willow said with an expression of clear disapproval on her face.

“Well I guess Faith doesn’t have a monopoly on the dangerous and risky,” Buffy said quietly. “What?”

“What?”

“Why are you twitching, Xander?”

“I’m not twitching!”

“Your face did this... twitching.”

“I’m just on edge. It’s nothing.”

“Rupert, where do you keep the tranquilizer gun?” Rowan asked off-hand as the librarian walked past the cage where he was trying file a persistent nick out of an axe blade.

Giles stopped just outside the door. “Why? Do you have a need for it?”

“Just thought it could use some maintenance. It hasn’t been used for a long time, I believe. Not in my time, anyway.”

“Oh, it’s there in the locked cabinet in my office. And you’re right; we never had to use it on Angel. The last time it was actually used was on Oz before you arrived. I can get it for you.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

It was 6 pm when Faith’s phone rang.

“ _The limo’s outside,_ ” came Mr Trick’s cold voice in her ear.

“Gotcha,” Faith said emotionlessly.

“ _I hope you had fun last night, Slayer,_ ” the vampire said in a cruel voice. “ _A last hurrah._ ”

“Fuck. You.”

“ _Get it done._ ”

The line went dead.


	39. Chapter 39

Sunnydale Airport had a separate business flight centre for small, private planes. It had four hangars and a warehouse for storing cargo. The Mayor’s limo was parked outside hangar #3 and the driver was enjoying a smoke as he leaned against the car. It was 6:30 pm and Faith was walking stealthily along the fence which surrounded the area. Her Slayer sense told that there were other demonic presences in the area beside the driver – a few at least. They were... she was being watched. Still she finished her tour as she subconsciously wanted to prolong the moments until she would have to face the delivery... and herself.

The motel’s shower had turned cold before she could get back to her feet and get dressed. The room had reeked of sex, making her want to throw up, yet again. She had picked up the bow and quiver Xander so considerately brought inside and made her own Walk of Shame back to the apartment.

Xander had saved her from an almost certain death, and she had thanked him by basically raping him. There was no way she could escape that conclusion even if she was unable to remember all the details – another brick in the wall between herself and the Scoobies. Until she realized that her hands were around Xander’s throat, she had had no idea it was him she was fucking. She had thought it was... How could she ever face him again? She had been mocking him for not being enough of a challenge for her. She had wanted to k-kill him for not standing up to her.

She had fucked over Buffy, she had fucked over the Scoobies, she had fucked over Rowan and she had fucked over the Watchers. Who did she have left? The Boss who wanted her to murder a man to prove her loyalty?

Midway to her apartment she had again touched the handle of the knife stuck in her belt. It had brought her a small measure of calmness. She had never told anyone how much she cherished all the gifts she had been given since her arrival in Sunnydale. She had not used the gift card to the beauty parlour. Instead, she had taken it out of the drawer every now and then and just held it in her hand, remembering the looks of joy on Buffy and Joyce’s face when she opened the envelope it had come in. The CD player had been one of her most prized possessions. She had dumped her old one and used the new one exclusively. The kitchen knives had been the only ones she used while doing some occasional cooking herself and she had kept them in perfect condition. All those birthday gifts were hopefully still in her old apartment. She missed them terribly.

But the knife had been given to her not out of obligation, like a birthday or Christmas present, but... just like that, out of the blue. It was a really subtle piece of work. Whatever she did, she couldn’t cut herself with it. Anything else, and the knife sliced it like a razor. She had no idea how Rowan had come up with such a treasure. She definitely knew he hadn’t had it before the “Finch incident”.

She had still been mulling this over in her mind when she arrived at the apartment building. Her somewhat joyful and nostalgic mood had taken an immediate turn back to sadness and anxiety on seeing the place which she now considered a prison.

There hadn’t been much in the fridge to eat but she munched on whatever she could find, never tasting what passed her lips. She had tried to listen to music, but the only sound she was able to hear was the relentless ticking of the seconds towards seven o’clock.

She had read a short story in school about a master swordsman who challenged a nobody to a duel over something trivial. His opponent’s easy acceptance of the challenge from a master had shaken the swordsman deeply. All through the night and the day before the duel there had been the constantly nagging doubt. Was his opponent some foreign master? Was he himself good enough? The story had ended with the challenger hanging himself before he could make his way to meet the unknown opponent.

Faith had always wondered what she would do in a situation like that. Now she knew. She wouldn’t, couldn’t take her own life. She had almost given up on the crypt floor after the fight with Angel, but letting go and actively seeking to end your life were two totally different things. She was a Slayer and suicide had never been the way.

Anger, doubt, self-loathing, resignation. Something was happening inside her, turning all that boiling sludge into something solid and strong. She would calmly face whatever happened here this evening. If she was destined to become a murderer, she would turn herself in at the first opportunity and accept whatever was her due without a single complaint. She had been spared once, with the Deputy Mayor; now she suddenly realized that she had been living on borrowed time since then and her number was now up.

Having made her way around the airport, she climbed on top of hangar #4 and waited.

As she stood there, feeling almost at peace with herself, she vaguely remembered something about a “task” which had something to do with Willy.

She was brought out of her musings when she heard the sound of a propeller plane on approach.

* * *

The small two-propeller plane taxied in front of hangar #3. After the engines had shut down, a large and sturdy man with facial tattoos stepped out of the plane holding a large box in his hands and made his way to the nearby limo. The driver tossed away his cigarette and laid the briefcase on the ground beside his feet.

“Is he in the car?” the courier asked with an accent.

“He couldn’t make it,” the driver said.

“The Mayor was supposed to be here, in person, with the money,” the courier said irritably.

The driver pointed at the briefcase on the ground, but the man’s eyes never moved to it.

“Well, the price just went up. I don’t like surprises.”

He never got an answer as something whispered in the silent night and the driver disintegrated in a cloud of dust. The briefcase fell over and opened. There were stacks of money in it.

The box was still chained to his wrist, but the courier kneeled down in front of the briefcase. It was then that he heard steady footsteps approaching him from the direction of the hangar. Closing the briefcase, he stood up slowly.

The one approaching him was shorter and slimmer than him, he quickly saw; someone young. An assassin? Would the Mayor really stoop so low? He wanted to smack himself for his stupidity; of course he would. Handcuffed to the box or not, he really shouldn’t have left his gun in the plane. He started to slowly backtrack his steps. Then the one approaching him got under the spotlight illuminating the area he and the limo were occupying. First, he saw the weapon and then...

“ _¡Mierda!_ ”

* * *

When the plane came to a stand-still and the door opened, Faith stood up straight and raised the bow. She knocked an arrow and pulled back the string. Even without her Slayer strength she could have held it back easily for minutes. The bow was perfectly balanced and tuned.

Fixing her sight a few yards away from the limo she waited for the courier to get to the spot. She had to blink her left eye – the one she used for sighting – to clear the moisture away from it. This was it. ‘ _I’m sorry, B. I’m sorry Bright Eyes. I was not good enough._ ’

She felt a small sting in her back; damn mosquitoes. Then her hands lost both strength and co-ordination, and the arrow flew in a random direction at the sky.

* * *

The next Faith knew, she was lying on a cold concrete surface looking up to a dark sky. Her left hand was still holding the compound bow and the right arm was loosely wrapped around her waist. She stood up, shaking her head, and looked down at the runway below.

The limo was still there, by itself. There was no plane and no one standing by the car. There was a dark, chest-like box lying on the ground beside the car and that was it. She recognized the box as being the one the courier had carried out of the plane.

Carefully, she made her way down from the roof of the hangar.

* * *

_Flashback_

Rowan looked up to the eyes of the towering courier in front of him. The man was trembling and fidgeting with the large box in his arms. Rowan could see that he was cuffed to one of the handles.

There had been two other vampires besides the limo driver watching the area from hidden positions. He had quietly dusted them after Faith made her way to the hangar roof. The anxiety emanating from the Slayer had been almost tangible but, on the other hand, Faith’s turmoil had played into his hands. She had been unable to sense him when he crept into firing range with the tranquilizer gun.

The limo driver had been just collateral damage after that. He lowered the cross-bow.

“Unlock the cuffs and drop the box,” he commanded the courier.

The courier’s hands were moving on their own accord even before his brain could process the command.

“Are you...?” the courier stammered.

“That could have been you. In fact, it almost was,” Rowan indicated the pile of dust beside the car.

“What do you...?”

“You will leave the box and take the briefcase and half of the money with you. The rest is the price for your life. If you ever breathe a word of this to anyone, I will find you.”

The courier could feel his spine freeze. He had no doubt about the validity of the evenly delivered threat. He slowly dug the key to the cuffs from the secret pocket inside his belt and unlocked them. He laid the box equally slowly on the ground. Scooping half of the money out of the briefcase on the concrete he closed it with a snap. Standing back up, he backtracked his way to the plane with the briefcase, all the time feeling the penetrating gaze from those glowing eyes on him.

He was a religious man and the only word swirling in his mind was “Tezcatlipoca”.

When the plane was back in the air, he finally let himself breathe freely. After he landed, he was going to get himself very, very drunk.

_End Flashback_

* * *

Faith stood beside the limo, looking at the iron-mounted box on the ground in mute wonder. Except for the pile of dust indicating the demise of the driver, there were no signs of violence around the car. The package was there, and she was not a murderer; at least she didn’t think she was. Someone had cleaned up the scene and left the prize there to her for the taking. But how? And who? No one in Sunnydale knew about the transaction besides herself, the Boss and Trick. Had she blabbed while at Willy’s? Had she opened up... in another way as well to Xander?

The Boss had ordered her to kill the courier. She had no idea what had happened to him. She remembered taking aim but after that... nothing. She could feel her heart clenching painfully. She had almost given up, again, but it seemed that there was still hope for her. She closed her eyes and could see steady amber eyes looking back at her.

“Damn you,” she muttered, shaking her head and lifted the box in the back seat. Now, how to drive a limo...

* * *

Buffy’s mouth fell open as a limo pulled over in front of the City Hall and Faith exited the car from the driver’s seat. She was rooted on spot as the dark-haired Slayer opened the back-seat door and took out a large, dark box. Faith walked purposefully to the main door and knocked on it. The night guard opened the door for her and then everything was quiet once again.

She had been spying on the City Hall for several hours before Faith’s arrival. She had been waiting for either the Mayor or Faith to arrive or leave and had been just about to give up for the day when the limo showed up with a delivery. A steel-reinforced box if she saw correctly, definitely something important. She tried to memorize the details of the iron fastenings and the overall dimensions of the box; Giles and Gwen would want a detailed description. Keeping the box’s appearance firmly in her mind, she left the scene and made her way to Giles’.

* * *

Mayor Wilkins was meticulously arranging the pencils in his drawer in order of length when the doors to his office banged open.

“Hey, ho! There it is!” the Mayor exclaimed happily and jumped up from his seat. “The courier? The briefcase?”

“Um, Boss?” Faith said, licking her lips nervously and laid the box down on the Mayor’s desk.

“Yes, Faith?” Wilkins asked almost absentmindedly while caressing the box with a loving touch.

Faith squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her hands into fists by her side. “I don’t know what happened to the courier, or the driver... or the briefcase.”

“What do you mean, Faithy?” Wilkins asked without turning his head away from the box.

Faith plopped down in the chair and held her head low. “I had the courier zeroed-in. Then... something happened. The next I knew I was lying on top of the hangar, the driver was dust and the plane gone. Only the limo and the box remained.”

The Mayor was silent for a long time. He sat back in his chair and pinched his lower lip. “You don’t know?” he asked in a low voice.

Faith sighed. “No, Boss. Securing the package was my top priority. Didn’t stay to dawdle after that. Drove the limo here myself.”

The Mayor swivelled his chair around so that his back was towards Faith.

The minutes stretched and Faith was starting to get uneasy. She turned her attention to the dark box on the table and, giving in to her curiosity, opened one of the latches securing the lid. In an instant Wilkins had turned the chair around again and lunged at the box, hurriedly securing the latch again. Faith drew back in surprise and fright.

“Don’t do that,” the Mayor said with a forced smile.

“Boss...”

“I’m not mad at you, Faithy,” Wilkins said gently, sitting back in his chair. “You fulfilled the mission best as you could. Mr Trick will handle the investigation. Now, go home. We’ll talk tomorrow.”


	40. Chapter 40

“The Box of Gavrok,” Gwen said triumphantly as she held out the large book for Buffy, Xander and Rowan to see. “It says here that it houses some demonic energy which needs to be ingested for it to take effect.”

“Any chance we can narrow down His Honour’s future actions with this info?” Buffy asked.

“I’m afraid not, not yet at least,” Gwen said with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t even say if it really is _the_ or _a_ Box of Gavrok.”

Unseen by the others, Rowan sighed inwardly. ‘ _The Box of fucking Gavrok. So, it’s going to be Olvikan._ ’

Olvikan, the Dragon. The Mayor had obviously pulled out all the stops when he set his course towards Ascension. The Olvikan method was perhaps the hardest of them all, requiring almost a century to complete and involved truly heinous acts to be performed along the way. And the end result was... staggering. But even Olvikan had a weakness which was obvious... ‘ _What?_ ’

He couldn’t recall. As much as Rowan tried to rack his brain, he hit a blank when he tried to think about what the weakness of each particular Ascension variety demon was. Then he realized two things. The first one was that this was a form or torture by The Hegemon. To have 95% of the information available to you but lack the crucial 5%. It was masterful, it was subtle, it was down-right frustrating.

The second one was that the Books of Ascension most likely had the answers. And the Mayor had secured them.

“I’m late for jujutsu class,” he said aloud, his mind still in turmoil. “See you all later?”

As Rowan exited the library, he was met by Giles and Willow carrying large sheaths of paper.

“Where are you off to?” Giles asked as they passed each other in the doorway.

“Jujutsu. What’s that?”

“Maps and stuff,” Willow said with a grin. “Plans for City Hall, courtesy of the power and water mainframe.”

* * *

Rowan had a hard time concentrating but he followed the shouted instructions by instinct.

He had learned to trust the knowledge that had been forced upon him but now, for the first time, he really realized what a two-edged blade it was. Anyway, now was really not the time to start doubting himself, so, he pushed the troublesome thoughts in the background and emptied his conscious mind.

“Rowan!” his Sensei’s command returned him back to the here and now after a while.

“Yes, Sensei,” he answered evenly with the correct amount of respect.

“Stay after class.”

For the remaining time, Rowan kept his mind strictly in the business at hand.

“What are you doing here?” the Sensei asked him gently as they were facing each other in the _seiza_ posture on the tatami after the rest of the class had left. Rowan kept his position appropriate to his level which took some concentrating.

“I wish to teach the discipline in the future, Sensei,” Rowan answered truthfully.

“I see,” the Sensei said evenly. “Today, your mind was elsewhere, and I could clearly see what you have tried to keep hidden.”

“You’ve seen it before,” Rowan said.

“Yes,” the Sensei answered. “Briefly. You have a yellow belt on your waist, but I know you’re holding back. I cannot go against tradition even if you should probably be given your _dans_ by now. That’s the way of the art.”

“I’m not asking for those, Sensei,” Rowan said and readjusted his posture slightly; a perfect _seiza_. There was no reason to pretend anymore.

“I have a request,” the Sensei said, taking in his posture.

“Yes, Sensei?”

“Face me, as you would if you were not restraining yourself.”

“As you wish, Sensei,” Rowan said respectfully, bowing deep.

Standing up Rowan let himself _flow_ , shrugging off all the restraints he always kept in place for this beginner class. The Sensei saw this and let himself do the same. What was left were two warriors on a hair-trigger waiting for the slightest advantage. They faced each other, unblinking, for an indeterminate time. Finally, the Sensei bowed.

“You win.”

“Yes, Sensei,” Rowan bowed back, knowing it be true.

“Take off your belt.”

Obeying the command, Rowan laid it down in front of him. The Sensei left the tatami for his office from which he soon returned with a rolled-up green belt.

“This is yours, today,” the Sensei said and presented the belt to Rowan with both hands.

“Thank you, Sensei,” Rowan said, took the belt and tied it around his waist.

The Sensei indicated that they should leave the tatami together. Once outside, the Sensei continued with less formality.

“I understand if you wish to leave. I’ll write you a letter of commendation...”

“I’ll be back next time.”

“An hour later. You will be with the intermediate class from now on.”

* * *

“We don’t know the exact location of the box, but the building should be infiltrated through here,” Xander explained. He tapped the spread-out third-floor map of the City Hall where it showed a meeting room with a skylight.

For the first time in a long while Xander was drawing stuff from his military knowledge and it felt good. Rowan had been right all those months ago. The operation required tactical planning, and he was good at this. He could see how it should go with a glance. “There’s a fire ladder on the east side here. It should be used to enter the roof.”

“I’m going in with Angel,” Buffy said.

“Yes,” Xander said without raising his head. “You’ll need firepower to bring down the inevitable traps and snares. Willow?”

“On it,” the red-haired Witch said with an amused smile.

“Giles and Gwen will create a diversion, if needed,” Xander continued. “Then we need someone to guard the ladder.”

“Mind if I come as well?” Rowan asked from the library doors making everyone turn towards him. He was holding a green belt rolled around his raised hand.

“No way!” Buffy exclaimed in joy and surprise. “I thought it would take several more months.”

“Thought so too.”

“You slipped,” Gwen grinned, realizing that Rowan had skipped the orange belt altogether.

“I did,” Rowan smiled. “Oh, well,” he sighed and shrugged.

Xander was the first to offer a high-five. Even Giles participated.

“It won’t be enough to simply have possession of the box,” Giles said after they had returned back to the topic at hand.

“Right,” Willow said, looking up from the map. “We have to destroy it; not just physically, ritually. With some down-and-dirty black magic.”

“What would such a ritual require?” Gwen asked.

Giles was consulting a small book. “I think the Breath of the Atropyx is the standard for this sort of thing. Fairly simple recipe. Xander?” he said offering the book to the boy.

“I know. I’m Ingredient-Gettin’ Guy,” Xander said and took the book from Giles.

“Let’s get to work,” Buffy said brightly and headed the group out of the library.

* * *

Xander was walking along Maple Court to the magic shop when he passed a boutique... He backtracked his steps to the window. With an evil grin he stepped inside.

“I have a theory. Your snide remarks the other day?” he said to Cordelia who had just turned around from putting a long dress back to the rack. “Sour grapes? Didn’t get to any schools. The grades were there, but then there were the pesky interviews.”

Cordelia crossed her arms over her chest, pursed her lips together and nodded a few times. “And once again Xander Harris shows he’s even stupider than he looks,” she said evenly. She turned around and picked up a stack of envelopes from her bag lying on the chair behind her. She started dealing them one by one in Xander’s hand.

“USC, Colorado State, Duke and Columbia.”

Xander looked up in astonishment. “Wow. These are great colleges.” Then he sneered once again and handed back the admissions. “I’m guessing they must have seen a different side to your father’s money.”

“Go away,” Cordelia said with a steady look and turned away.

“Sure,” Xander retorted and clapped his hands together. “I have to go back to helping to save some lives.”

Cordelia almost didn’t hear the quietly said “... including yours” before Xander continued in a louder voice.

“Carry on, Cordy. I know you have some important accessorizing to do.”

With that he turned away and left, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

The rented van came to a slow stop in the parking lot east of the City Hall. Giles had killed the lights a block away and was now checking the dark area around them. He nodded at Gwen sitting next to him and the woman Watcher knocked twice on the metal wall behind them. They heard the side panel door being slid open and then Buffy came to stand in front of Gwen’s rolled-down window. Willow soon joined Buffy at the window; Angel and Rowan stood farther back with a clear space between them.

The drive from Giles’ to the City Hall had been a strange trip. Buffy had tried to lighten up the tense mood with constant chattering but soon fell quiet herself. She had been sitting by Angel’s side with a small space between them. Rowan had been sitting opposite them, facing them across the cargo hold. Willow had been quietly practicing the spells she would be required to cast with her eyes closed and only lips moving. After having stopped talking, she just kept looking from Angel to Rowan and back. The air between the two could have been cut with a knife. Angel was brooding which was nothing out of the ordinary but there were small frowns on his face every now and then. Rowan, on the opposite side, was looking quite calm with his glowing eyes blinking in a steady rhythm in the dimness of the cargo hold. She let out a breath of relief when she heard Gwen’s knocks.

“Now, remember,” Giles said, leaning over Gwen to address the strike team. “If anything should go awry, Gwen and I will create a diversion.”

“Gotcha, Giles. Let’s go, guys,” Buffy said quickly, already trotting towards the eastern exterior wall of the City Hall. She wanted to get this thing done as quickly as possible.

Angel used his greater height and weight to jump up to catch the emergency ladder and pull it down. Willow was the first to climb up.

“I’ll be waiting here for you,” Rowan said to the red-haired Witch and gently squeezed her shoulder.

Willow smiled broadly and nodded. “I know.” She climbed agilely to the top and slipped onto the roof. Buffy, Angel and Rowan just nodded at each other and then the Slayer and the vampire followed Willow up the ladders.

Angel opened one of the skylight panels and, to their surprise, the Box was sitting on a long table just below them. They wouldn’t be needing a locator spell after all. “Smells like a trap,” he muttered. “Why don’t we just levitate it through the window?”

“The box is dark magic,” Willow explained while extracting a large decanter out of her backpack. “I don’t want to touch it directly with a spell. Rowan could most likely do it with Air, but it would still be too risky.”

“Well, we come prepared,” Buffy said with a grin.

Angel just shrugged and opened the large bag he had been holding. Inside was a pulley and harness system which he started assembling. They would use it to lower Buffy down to the room below as originally planned by Xander.

“All yours, Will,” Buffy said once the Witch had come to stand beside the skylight with the decanter in her hands.

Willow just nodded, already focusing her mind on the task at hand. She started chanting and slowly pouring the powder from the decanter through the skylight on the box below. She nodded to herself as the sparkling particles remained hanging in the air maybe a foot above the box. Buffy knew the next part would take a few minutes, so she went to the fire ladder and knocked on the metal rail once with her knuckles. She nodded in relief when she heard the answering two knocks from below.

As Buffy went back to the skylight and looked down, she saw that the box was completely surrounded by a sparkling hemisphere. After the last of the powder had landed on the bubble, Willow finished the incantation with a command word. The bubble around the box vanished without a sound.

“Oh, yeah; I’m bad,” Willow said triumphantly.

“Four stars, Will,” Buffy agreed. “Now, go,” she continued, handing Willow’s backpack to the Witch.

* * *

Faith was in the Mayor’s office with Wilkins and Trick when the general alarm sounded. Immediately jumping into action, she started giving orders. “You two, the main staircase,” she said to the two bodyguards. “You, the west wing,” she ordered the black vampire. “I’ll cover the east wing.”

She was already moving to the office doors when she noticed that Trick hadn’t moved a muscle. The vampire only followed her after a brief nod from the Mayor.

She exited the City Hall through a small door near the eastern end of the main façade. Peering carefully around the corner she saw to her amazement Willow lowering herself to the ground from the lowest step of the fire ladder and quickly walking away.

She was just about to jump the red-haired Witch when she felt a tingle in her Slayer sense. She turned around in a flash and, in mid-motion, drew her knife from its sheath behind her back. Then she was face-to-face with Rowan, holding the knife against his throat and time seemed to stop.


	41. Chapter 41

A multitude of emotions crossed through Faith’s mind as she and Rowan looked at each other, both unmoving like frozen on the spot. ‘ _I could kill him and really join the Mayor. He’s just a demon._ ’, ‘ _I want to... I’m going to kiss him.’, ‘Maybe he will._ ’, ‘ _Those eyes..._ ’, ‘ _The knife... this knife._ ’

“Gotcha,” she said simply.

“Look down,” Rowan answered quietly, and Faith felt a small pin prick against her side. Flicking her eyes briefly downwards she saw that Rowan was holding a slim-bladed dagger against her jacket, just where a thrust would push the blade between her ribs to her heart.

Their standoff seemed to last minutes but, in reality, it was only close to ten seconds before Faith opened her mouth.

“What now?” she almost croaked.

“We both walk away,” Rowan answered without a hint of emotion. “You never saw anything.”

“But what about...?” Faith started, not really knowing what she was going to say.

“But nothing,” Rowan said, sounding surprised. “If we continue this, I will have to hurt you. I’m going to lower my knife now and withdraw.” His eyes flicked briefly over Faith’s shoulder.

With that, Rowan simply backed away and was soon lost in the shadows. Faith could only stand on the spot with unblinking eyes and her heart beating painfully in her chest like a jackhammer. She only regained her mobility when she felt her Slayer sense tingle again, this time with a definite warning. Turning around, she saw Mr Trick rounding the corner. She quickly sheathed her knife, willing her pulse to slow down.

“Anything, Slayer?” the vampire asked coldly.

“They went up through here,” Faith said truthfully, hoping to sound matter of fact.

“And they blasted their way out through the main doors,” Trick continued. “Come on, the Mayor wants to see us.”

* * *

Mayor Wilkins was standing in the demolished meeting room looking at the destruction around him. “Well, this is very unfortunate,” he said evenly to the two vampire guards who looked like they wanted to be anywhere but in the Mayor’s presence at the moment.

“I just had this room decorated, for Pete’s sake,” the Mayor continued his tirade. “At tax-payers’ expense.”

He started pacing around until he saw Mr Trick and Faith enter the room.

“AND GOD DAMN IT! THEY’VE GOT MY BOX!” he roared, making the Slayer and vampire stop in their tracks. Then he collected himself with great difficulty, feeling the faint tendrils of the growing darkness within withdraw back to their hidden spot – waiting, biding their time that was soon approaching. Then he whipped around to face Faith.

“Faith,” he asked, almost panting. “Where would they take it?”

Faith was still taken aback by the unrestrained show of anger by Wilkins. “Sunnydale Highschool library, Boss,” she answered without thinking.

“Ah, yes, the librarian Watcher,” Wilkins said with a snort, wiping his forehead with his handkerchief. “Faith, come with me. Mr Trick, please explain to our guards here what security means.”

* * *

Giles, Gwen, Rowan, Xander, Willow and Oz were already in the library when Buffy and Angel came in, the latter carrying the Box of Gavrok.

“Nice diversion, Giles, Gwen,” Buffy said with a smile. “No one bothered us after you guys sped away. How’s it going with the Atropine Breath?”

“The Breath of the Atropyx,” Giles said with a pained look. “Xander and Oz have the solution almost ready. Five more minutes and we can pour it on the box.”

Almost exactly four minutes later the library doors were pushed forcefully inwards and Mayor Wilkins marched inside with Faith following him. The dark-haired Slayer looked like she wanted to be anywhere else than right there and then. She stopped just inside the doors and remained close to them.

“I believe you have something of mine,” the Mayor stated coolly, coming to stand a few yards away from the long table where the box was sitting. “I’ll have it back now.”

Buffy stepped between the Mayor and the table with her arms crossed over her chest. “Not gonna happen.” She refused to spare a glance at Faith who was desperately trying to make herself look inconspicuous.

“Give me the box,” the Mayor said evenly, “Or I’ll have Faith go outside and grab the first person she comes across. She’ll start carving pieces out of them until I have the Box in my hands.”

The whole library went silent at the threat. Willow looked like she was about to be sick and Oz took her hand into his. Angel was holding the gourd which contained the solution needed for the Breath of the Atropyx, hoping that the Mayor wasn’t aware that it wasn’t finalized yet. Xander was looking helplessly around. Giles and Gwen were standing a few steps behind Buffy, flanking her. Rowan was sitting at the table, reading the spell book containing the conjuration required for the Breath.

“So, we meet again, Ms Summers,” Wilkins said jovially his cold mood having switched almost like at the snap of fingers. “Angel,” he nodded to the vampire.

“Dick,” Angel replied without so much as a change in expression.

The Mayor smiled cruelly at the address. “Well, I’d like to wish all the best to you and your ‘chosen’ but maybe you wouldn’t mind a little bit of fatherly advice instead.” Wilkins tsk’ed. “I just don’t see much of a future for you two. You know, I just don’t sense a long-lasting relationship. Not just because I plan to kill the both of you.” Here Wilkins let his gaze sweep over the rest of the group. “And that includes the rest of you, of course.”

Buffy couldn’t see the painful look on Angel’s face at the Mayor’s words when she responded. “I don’t think we need to talk about this.” To her surprise the Mayor gave an amused laugh.

“God, you kids, you know...,” Wilkins said with a shake of his head. “You don’t like to think about the future, make plans. You should at least show a little bit of respect for your elders.”

“You’re not my elder,” Angel said coolly. “I got a lot of years on you.”

Wilkins looked like he had been expecting this answer as his cruel smile was back on. “And that’s just one of the things you’ll have to deal with. You’re immortal, Angel. She’s not. Won’t be easy, you staying like you are now, and her, well, hypothetically assuming she has a future – old, wrinkled and senile; cursing you for your youth. And let’s not forget the fact that any moment of true happiness will turn you evil. I mean... what kind of a life can you offer her. Sunday night picnics? 2.4 adopted kids wondering why their daddy never takes them out to play? All I see is skulking in the shadows for all her time, denying her the life she should have led. By God, I think that’s a little selfish.”

Everyone in the library stood absolutely still and silent; the only sound being the turning of pages as Rowan read the spell book. In the initial confusion when their adversaries had entered the library, he had inconspicuously drawn the glamour upon him.

Wilkins turned his attention to him.

“And who’s this splendid young fellow who knows to keep his mind where it should be; in learning?”

“No one of consequence, Mr Mayor,” Rowan answered evenly without lifting his eyes from the book. He started idly tracing the book’s cover with a finger.

“There you see it; respect,” Wilkins said happily and turned again to face Angel. “Move away from the Box, Angel.”

Angel didn’t budge an inch.

“Last chance,” Wilkins said and signalled to Faith with his hand.

“Back off, Angel,” Buffy said emotionlessly.

“Buffy...”

“Don’t make me tell you twice,” Buffy continued with the same flat tone.

Seeing Angel and everyone else backing away, Wilkins nodded to Faith who came forward with her eyes fixed on the Box and lifted it to her arms. Without another word, Wilkins turned around and exited the library with Faith following close behind him.

* * *

As she tailed the Mayor along the deserted corridors of Sunnydale High towards the library, Faith felt like her boots were encased in concrete. Every fibre in her being was screaming for her to turn around and run out of the building. She kept on shambling forward, though, feeling like she was being dragged on in an invisible leash held by the man who was walking purposefully a few steps ahead of her. She was breathing painfully, and just inside the library doors her legs wouldn’t co-operate anymore and she had to stop.

She was unable to look at anyone gathered in the library, instead keeping her eyes basically unfocused and down. She could feel the anger and resentment pouring her way in waves, almost drowning her.

The Mayor’s words, aimed at Buffy, cut her deeper than anything she could have imagined. ‘ _You’re immortal... She’s not..._ ’ She was brought out of her haze when she heard the Boss address Rowan directly. For the first time she focused on the one being addressed.

He had been so indifferent the whole time, barely acknowledging her and Wilkins’ presence. Everyone else’s focus was on the Mayor, but Rowan had been just reading the book in his hands the whole time; like nothing out of the ordinary was happening around him. Faith fixed her eyes on him, willing him to show a hint of recognition... or something.

Their encounter outside the City Hall was still playing in her mind. The lack of emotion from him, the absolute conviction with which he would have dealt out violence against her if she had pressed the issue further. It was unlike anything she had ever faced before. And now he was calmly reading a book... but what was his finger tracing? It was unlikely that any of the others had noticed it. She tried to follow the intricate patterns and then it dawned on her. They were letters; four letters repeating themselves.

 _I-S-B-Y_.

She closed her eyes briefly and drew a deep breath but otherwise kept her face impassive. Inside she was struggling to keep her emotions in check, behind the walls where they belonged. ‘ _Sometimes I really wish...,_ ’ she started in her mind but then the Boss motioned for her to pick up the Box and, like an automaton, she put her mind back to the task at hand.

* * *

Everyone in the library stayed silent for a full minute after the Mayor and Faith had exited. Then Buffy turned to face Rowan with her eyes burning. Anger was boiling inside her and she needed a way to vent it out.

“What the hell was that?” she spat out.

Rowan laid the book slowly on the table and dropped his glamour. He stood up and turned to face the furious Slayer.

“What was what, Buffy?” he asked calmly.

“All that... that cringing. ‘Sorry, Mr Mayor. I’m no-one, Mr Mayor.’”

Rowan took a few steps forward, coming face-to-face with the angry Slayer. Both Giles and Gwen took positions to intervene if things got out of hand.

“And what would you have had me do?” Rowan challenged. “He’s invulnerable; you told us that yourself. Don’t you have even the faintest inkling of tactics or strategy, hmmm?” Then he quoted. “‘If the enemy is secure at all points, be prepared for him. If he is in superior strength, evade him.’”

“What?” Buffy barked.

She turned around when she heard Giles sigh. She could also see Xander nod with an impressed look on his face. “’The Art of War’, once again, Buffy,” Giles said. “Rowan is right. There’s no point in engaging him directly and showing him all our strength if he cannot be harmed.”

Still seething, Buffy turned on her heels and marched out of the library. After a short while, Angel followed her.

“Well, as of now we seem to be right back where we started,” Gwen said quietly.


	42. Chapter 42

The next day, after school, Willow approached the still figure sitting under a tree by the school building.

“Deep thoughts?” she asked and sat down beside Buffy.

“Deep and meaningful,” Buffy answered with a shake of her head. “I’m never getting out of here. I kept thinking ‘if I stop the Mayor...’ but I was just kidding myself. And there’s always going to be something here where the Hellmouth is. I’m a Sunnydale girl; no other choice.”

“It must be tough,” Willow said with a nod. “I mean, I could do anything I want. Any college in the country would have me; four or five in Europe...”

“Please, Willow. Tell me you’re going somewhere with this,” Buffy said with an exasperated sigh.

“Nope,” Willow answered with a grin and produced a paper from the back pocket of her red dungarees. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“UC Sunnydale?” Buffy read incredulously.

“I will be matriculating with the class of 2003,” Willow stated nonchalantly.

“Are you serious?” Buffy asked for confirmation in disbelief.

“Say, isn’t that where you’re going?” Willow deadpanned.

Buffy felt an elation she hadn’t felt for a long time. She lunged at her best friend and they fell to the grass in a heap, laughing.

“I can’t believe it. Are you serious?” Buffy babbled but then reality hit her. “Wait. What am I saying? You can’t.”

“What do you mean?” Willow asked mildly.

“I won’t let you.”

“Whoa! Which of the two people here is the boss of me?” Willow asked with laughter in her voice.

“There are better schools,” Buffy tried.

“UC Sunnydale is not that bad,” Willow shrugged. “I can pretty much design my own curriculum.”

“Fine, I’ll give you that,” Buffy conceded. “But there are _safer_ schools. Willow, I can’t let you stay because of me.”

“You know, this isn’t about you at all. I’m fond – don’t take me wrong – of you. This whole stuff with the Mayor and all has made things kinda clear. I mean, you’ve been fighting evil for what... three years and I’ve helped some. And now we’re supposed to decide what we wanna do with our lives. And, yesterday evening, I just realized that’s what I want to do with my life; fight evil, help people. Looking at you and Angel and Rowan; it’s a good fight and I want in.”

Buffy stayed silent for a while just looking at her best friend. “I kinda love you, Will.”

Willow let out a small laugh. “Besides, I have a shot at being a bad-ass Wicca. What better place to learn than the good ol’ Hellmouth. I mean, hello! Giles? Rowan? He has already helped me with my magic and I _know_ I can learn a lot more. The Elemental Magic stuff? I really want to have a shot at that.”

Buffy let out a small laugh and sigh mixture. “I was really horrible at him.”

“Yeah, you kinda were. But he understands.”

Buffy tried to keep her expression stoic but eventually a wide grin split her face. “I feel the need for more sugar than the human body can handle.”

“Mochas?” Willow asked excitedly.

“Yes, please.”

* * *

Faith was walking along Maple Court with the hood of her black pullover hoodie pulled up to hide her face. Ever since the encounter in the library the day before, she had felt like someone was following her. It didn’t feel like a vampire – it was broad daylight – and it didn’t feel like Buffy. Whenever she tried to concentrate on it, the feeling vanished. She _had_ sensed Buffy earlier and briefly seen her and Willow enter the Espresso Pump from a distance. She kept her eyes low and her hands in the front pocket as she passed the numerous stores lining Maple.

“Faith?”

She was briefly startled by the voice addressing her but refused to acknowledge she had heard it. She kept walking forward.

“Helllooo, Slay girl! Deaf much?”

Gritting her teeth, she took a few quick steps back and practically dragged Cordelia back inside the store from which the taller brunette had emerged.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?” Cordelia demanded indignantly as the door closed behind the Slayer.

“Keep it down, Queen C,” Faith hushed the cheerleader and pulled her hood back.

“Ok, but you better start explaining,” Cordelia said and crossed her arms over her chest.

Faith had not seen Cordelia since her “defection” and, before that, only briefly after the taller brunette and Xander broke up. She opened her mouth for a flippant comment but found out that no sound came out of her mouth. There was so much on her mind... Why was it so hard to breathe suddenly...?

Slender arms took her into a gentle embrace, and she could feel hot tears escaping her eyes. She started trembling uncontrollably and, without thinking, wrapped her arms around the person holding her.

“Shhh, Faith. Let it all out,” she could hear a soothing voice whisper in her ear.

She wanted to but couldn’t. There were hairline fractures in her inner walls, but they had been constructed well, over a long time. She briefly squeezed her eyes shut so tight that it hurt and took a few calming breaths. Back in control once again she took a step back and faced a concerned Cordelia.

“Faith...,” the cheerleader started.

“If you speak a word of this to anyone...,” Faith interrupted but her voice lacked the usual bite.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Your bad girl image has not suffered any dents. Your secret is safe with me.”

They looked at each other in silence for several awkward seconds.

“I should...”

“Would you...?”

Both fell silent again.

“You first,” both said in unison. “No, you first.”

“Would you like some water?” Cordelia asked in a rush. “I have some in the back room.”

Faith was about to decline the offer and just leave, but there was again that nagging feeling that she was being watched.

“Aren’t you giving aid and comfort to an enemy?” she asked, looking around the store. “That’s treason.”

Cordelia snorted. “Oh, please. Don’t give me that ‘Faith is evil’ BS. Just because little Miss stick-up-the-ass Summers is selling does not mean I’m buying.”

“How do you...?”

“Hey, Cordelia Chase here, in case you’d forgotten.”

“Har-de-har, C,” Faith tried to hide her grin.

Cordelia punched Faith’s shoulder with a grin of her own. “I have eyes and ears,” she said. “And people tell me things.”

‘ _Eyes and ears,_ ’ Faith thought briefly. ‘ _No, don’t think that._ ’

Cordelia watched Faith curiously as a quick string of emotions suddenly flashed on the Slayer’s face. People often thought of her as rude and insensitive, but she was actually very good at reading people. Most of her snide remarks were meant to cause a reaction and reveal more of the person than they thought they were actually revealing. Faith had always been one of the more difficult ones to read; she tried to keep her true feelings firmly in check. But Cordelia had this knack of being usually right if her initial hunch told her so.

“You’ve got it bad, sister,” she said with a shake of her head. The sharply indrawn breath the Slayer took was all the confirmation she needed. It didn’t take a genius to put one and one together. “Is it a certain blonde Slayer, or that... guy or both?”

Faith was practically swaying from dizziness. “Rowan?” she asked and tried to sneer.

“I see.” Cordelia answered evenly. It was nice to be right.

“That was a question, C!” Faith said and tried to avoid blushing.

“And an answer.”

Faith let out a long breath and deflated visibly.

“So, all this dark side stuff...,” Cordelia started.

“Cordelia, please,” Faith almost begged. She rarely used people’s names, so Cordelia knew the Slayer was serious. “I... I can’t... I promised.”

Cordelia took a step forward and ran her hands up and down Faith’s arms. “It’s ok, Faith. I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s going on.”

“C, you’ve gotta promise...”

Cordelia made the gesture with her thumb and index finger to zip her lips shut. “Guys...,” she shook her head. “Don’t you sometimes wish...?”

Faith raised a hand. “Hold on to that thought, C.” Cordelia had been acting like they were the only two in the store. If there were no other customers present, then...

Acting on instinct, Faith leapt in front of the changing rooms. When she landed, the knife was already in her hand. She practically ripped the changing room door out of its hinges, simultaneously slashing with the knife.

* * *

“NO!”

Faith watched in astonishment as the demonic-looking woman inside the changing room shrieked and desperately tried to hold the broken pendant around her neck together. Green light was escaping from the jewel her knife had just sliced in two.

“Faith, what...?” she could hear Cordelia’s panicked voice from behind her.

“Stay back there, C,” Faith warned her.

As the green glow stopped flowing from the now dull pendant, a brief burst of energy shattered what was remaining of the crystal. The force pushed Faith off-balance and she fell to the floor. Before she could get back to her feet, a brunette young woman had rushed out of the changing room and out of the store door to the street. She was gone in an instant.

“That... that was Anya Emerson,” Faith heard Cordelia’s shocked voice say. “What did you do?”

“You know her?” Faith asked incredulously while getting back to her feet.

“I’ve seen her around school. She’s a transfer student, or something like that.”

“She looked and felt like a demon,” Faith explained. “I broke her necklace and then she changed. Did you know she was here?”

“No,” the cheerleader shook her head. “I was just about to close the shop to go for a late lunch. She definitely wasn’t here before I spotted you outside.”

Faith’s mouth fell open. Why hadn’t she realized earlier... “Hang on, C. You... work here?”

“Well, don’t you catch on fast,” Cordelia snorted.

“Yeah, but why?”

Cordelia had just opened her mouth when the bell above the front door chimed and a regular customer entered the store. “Look, I gotta go, Faith. You can take the back door out if you wish. Maybe later we can...”

“Thanks, C,” Faith said sincerely and then licked her lips, feeling suddenly nervous. “Look, if I don’t, you know...”

“I know. Very hush-hush and on the q.t. But when this is all over, I want a full disclosure.”

“Got it, C,” Faith said. She looked at Cordelia unsure of what to do.

“Oh, come here, you,” Cordelia said with an understanding smile and held her arms open.

Their hug was brief but warm. Cordelia didn’t have to fake the smile when she went to ask whether she could help the newly arrived customer.

* * *

‘ _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ ’ Anya berated herself as she made her way across Sunnydale to Shady Hill cemetery. The Hellmouth had been such a rewarding, but, on the other hand, maddeningly frustrating hunting ground. The high schoolers with their petty but often imaginative wishes, and then, the frustrations. The woman Watcher whose mind had screamed for vengeance but had, perhaps due to her conditioning, refrained from actually saying her wishes out loud. The Slayer whom she had followed in the shadows for the past few days. She had picked up the unsaid wish in the Slayer’s mind, almost tasting it like the promise of a fine wine. But she had slipped, and the Slayer had been able to sense her. Her power centre, which should have easily withstood the attack with the knife, Slayer strength wielding the weapon notwithstanding, had been slashed in half like a chunk of butter.

She reached one of the larger mausoleums in the cemetery and tried to wrench the door open. It didn’t budge at all to her now human strength.

“D'Hoffryn!” she yelled, pounding on the door.


	43. Chapter 43

“You’re Willow, right?” the redhead heard the question from behind her as she was ascending the stairs to the second floor of the school building.

Willow turned around on the step and saw a brown-haired girl looking at her expectantly from the first-floor landing. “Uh, hi?” she asked, feeling a bit wary.

“Anya,” the brunette pointed at herself. “I’m... sort of new here.” When Willow didn’t react, she continued. “I... know Cordelia.”

“Oh, that’s fun,” Willow said with a not-so-subtle hint of sarcasm.

“Yes, isn’t it,” Anya said brightly. “So, listen. I have this little project I’m working on and I... heard you were the person to ask if...”

“What do you need?” Willow interrupted not trying to hide the tiredness in her voice.

“Oh, nothing big,” Anya said casually. “Just a little spell I’m working on.”

“A spell?” Willow asked, suddenly interested and stepped down the stairs to where Anya was standing.

“Yes, I just need a secondary to create a temporal fold. I heard you were a pretty powerful Wicca. So?”

“You heard right,” Willow answered excitedly. “About the Wicca part, at least. Not so sure about the powerful but I’m always ready to work some dark mojo.” She really wanted to do this, but her natural truthfulness prompted her to be honest. “But there’s this... guy I know if you need some extra mojoness.”

“No, no. You’ll do fine,” Anya assured the red-head. She had a revenge to exact against a certain Slayer and she definitely didn’t want to bring a Warlock into the fold.

“Is it dangerous?” Willow whispered, barely able to hide her excitement. “’Cause danger is my middle name, yessir. I mean it would be if it wasn’t already Danielle...”

“No,” Anya answered quickly, hoping to quell her intended partner’s fears. She was taken slightly aback when she saw the quick flash of disappointment on Willow’s face. Had she made a mistake in asking this airhead? But she was committed now. Offering a silent prayer to the Powers she beckoned for Willow to follow her to an empty classroom.

* * *

_Flashback_

“Do not ask again! You have been measured and found unworthy of your powers,” D’Hoffryn’s strict voice boomed inside the crypt.

“I was robbed of them,” Anya said, hoping to not sound too defensive.

“By your own carelessness!”

“For a thousand years I have wielded the powers of the wish,” Anya said from between clenched teeth. “I have brought ruin to the heads of unfaithful men. I have brought forth destruction and chaos for the pleasure of your kind. I was feared and worshipped across the mortal coil, and now you say I’m stuck here? As a mortal? As a... 12th grader? Do you have any idea how boring high schoolers actually are?”

“This is no longer a concern of ours,” D’Hoffryn stated with finality in his voice. “You will live out your mortal life and die.”

Getting desperate, Anya fell to her knees. “Give me another chance. You can fold the fabric of time. Send me back to that place before it happened, and I’ll change it. The Slayer...”

“Your time is passed,” D’Hoffryn said in a bored voice and dismissed Anya.

Anya got herself back to her feet with her eyes blazing. “I’m getting my power centre back. And if you won’t help me, then, by the pestilent gods, I will find someone who will.”

_End flashback_

* * *

“The necklace was a family heirloom, passed down for generations,” Anya explained to Willow as they laid down the spell components around the plate on which the resemblance of her power centre was painted. “Then it was... forcefully taken away from me.”

“How does this spell work?” Willow asked while lighting the few strategically placed candles.

“Well, we both call on Eyrishon, the Endless One and offer up the standard supplication,” Anya explained, trying to keep her voice calm. Stupid questions tended to irritate her. “Then there’s a teensy temporal fold... we hope. Then I pour the sacred sand on the representation of the necklace and Eyrishon brings it forth from the time and place it was lost.”

Willow was impressed. “Cool,” was the only thing that came to her mind.

“Ready?” Anya asked, focusing herself.

“I think so,” Willow replied, hoping to sound determined. There were butterflies in her stomach; a temporal fold was bigger than anything she had attempted before, except perhaps the restoring of Angel’s soul.

Anya held out her right hand, palm up, and started chanting.

“ _Eyrishon. K'shala. Meh-uh._ ”

Willow copied Anya’s gesture, feeling the energies gather around them.

“ _Diprecht. Doh-tehenlo Nu-Eyrishon._ ”

Anya poured the sand slowly from the vial on their extended fingers through which it fell onto the plate. It was working! She could feel the power gather around them. She prepared to tap on the power reserves of her assistant.

“ _Eyrishon, Di-omegon!_ ”

Willow closed her eyes. Their hands touched. On instinct she reached out to Anya like she had done with Rowan on Christmas Eve when she used him as the source for the weather spell.

“No, you stupid...!” she heard Anya yell. “You’re the secondary...”

There was a flash of light.

* * *

_Flicker_

_Cordelia and Faith are bantering together in a shop, both smiling. She sees Anya with a demon face looking at them from a changing room._

“Yes!” she heard Anya’s triumphant voice.

_Flicker_

_She is a vampire feeding on a small child. Beside her Xander has his face buried between the legs of a girl who is on the verge of death from the loss of blood. The Master is looking at them beatifically from the other side of the booth. The Bronze._

“This is not right...,” she could hear the fear in Anya’s voice.

_Flicker_

_She is kissing Faith in the back of a long limo. There is a collar around her neck and Faith is holding the attached leash in her hand. They are both holding a glass of champagne._

“This is not how it’s...”

_Flicker_

_She is kneeling in front of Buffy’s grave with a broken urn in her hands. She feels like all the hope the world had has just been lost._

“Something’s gone wrong...”

_Flicker_

_She is full of power, the most powerful Witch ever. Only the cursed_ Lehaïr _now stands between her and absolute dominance. Sunnydale, in ruins around her. Buffy, Giles, Xander, Faith, Angel – they tried, and they failed._

“Willow!”

_Flicker... Flicker... Flicker..._

“Willow!!!”

* * *

The light went out and Willow opened her eyes with a snap. Her breathing was erratic, and she felt totally drained.

“That was...,” she stammered. “What was that?”

“It’s not here,” Anya muttered as she swiped the purple sand from the plate.

Willow rose up to shaky legs, panting heavily.

“It’s not here!” Anya shouted in frustration and pounded her knee with a fist.

“Ok,” Willow said in a shaky voice. “That was a little blacker than I like my arts.”

“Don’t be such a wimp,” Anya sneered. “It was just a little hitch, a... power surge. You reached out when I was...”

“That... those flashes were not just some temporal folds,” Willow interrupted. “They were some... some weird hell dimensions. And that was you in one of the flashes. I-I don’t think you’re telling me everything. What are you?”

“I swear,” Anya started and then raised her head to look Willow in the eyes. “I swear, I’m just trying to find my necklace.”

“Well, did you try to look inside the sofa in Hell?” Willow asked sarcastically.

Anya gave Willow what she hoped was a sincere smile. “Look, we’ll just try it again and this time you’ll...”

“No,” Willow squeaked and backed away. “I think emphatically not.”

“I can’t do it by myself!” Anya shouted.

“That’s a relief,” Willow shouted back, picking up her stuff. “Next time – call the guy I mentioned; Rowan... Shea-something, care of Mr Rupert Giles. I’m outta here.”

“Fine. Go! Idiot child.”

“On second thought, forget I mentioned my friend,” she said and turned to go. At the class room door, she stopped and turned around. “Look, Anya. Magic is dangerous. It’s not to be toyed with. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go back to my regular level of mojoness.”

* * *

Giles came home still deep in thought. Willow’s account of what she and the other girl... Anya(?) had done was intriguing – possible alternate realities and parallel dimensions. He tried to weigh this information against what Rowan had told them about the different realms.

He kept fingering the sketch he had made of the necklace Willow said that Anya had attempted to locate with a temporal fold. The book he had at home about various legendary signatures and symbols might shed some light into the enigma.

Inside, he noticed that Rowan’s shoes were neatly placed beside the door; his houseguest never wore shoes inside the house. He was just about to shout out a greeting when he heard the unmistakeable sound of water running in the shower. He also noticed that the turntable and amplifier were both on, and an LP cover was lying on top of the player. He shouldn’t have been surprised when he recognized the cover from afar. He loved classic rock, but this particular album had been one of his most prized possessions since childhood; Mozart’s “The Magic Flute”, conducted by Otto Klemperer.

He remembered the numerous times he had listened to the opera as a child; both alone and with his father. The magical world of Sarastro, the Queen of the Night, Tamino, Papageno and others had been one of the seeds which had started him on his chosen path of sorcery and all things arcane.

Then, as if on cue, he could hear Rowan’s voice over the shower starting on one of the arias.

_Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen_

_wünscht Papageno sich!_

_O so ein sanftes Täubchen_

_wär’ Seligkeit für mich!_

With a wide smile on his face, Giles poured himself a drink and picked up the volume on symbols from the bookshelf.

* * *

“What are you working on?”

Giles was startled out of his reading as Rowan walked into the living room bare-footed and drying his hair with a towel. He was dressed in a pair of loose black sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt. As Rowan sat down on the couch, Giles gave him a brief summary of what Willow had told him.

“Check the chapter on vengeance demons,” Rowan suggested after having spent a minute in thought. “There is one in Sunnydale right now, or at least used to be a month or so ago.”

“Vengeance demons?” Giles asked with a raised eyebrow. Rowan nodded.

Checking the index and then opening the book in the approximate location, he came face to face with the exact symbol he had sketched in his notebook based on Willow’s description.

“That’s it,” he said quietly. “It’s the symbol of Anyanka.” Then it hit him. “Anya!”

“Not very imaginative as aliases go,” Rowan commented dryly.

“Anyanka is sort of a patron saint for scorned women,” Giles read further. “She grants wishes among other things.”

“Wishes are the ultimate _deus ex machina,_ ” Rowan said as he stood up and went to the kitchenette to get himself some water. “Luckily the Powers put up some safeguards against unlimited wishes.”

“Really?” Giles blinked in astonishment. “Did you ever...?”

Rowan leaned on the serving counter with an amused smile on his lips and shook his head. “’Careful what you wish, you may regret it. Careful what you wish, you just might get it.’”

“My dear boy, you never cease to amaze me,” Giles said with a laugh and then realized what he had said. “I... uh...”

Rowan almost laughed out loud himself at the look on the ex-Watcher’s face. “Relax, Rupert. I understand and no offence taken. Just don’t overcompensate and go on calling me an ‘old man’ or anything like that,” he said with a wink.

“No, no... of course not,” Giles tried to back-pedal.

“... for at least a few more centuries.”

It took a minute for Giles’ sudden coughing fit to subside. “That’s still quite hard to fathom,” he said finally, suddenly curious. “I never actually went about asking Angel about it, and I guess for him and his kind it’s different, but how does it... work?”

Rowan stayed silent for a long time and Giles was starting to think he would not answer at all.

“It’s next to impossible to explain in English, Rupert; it’s difficult even in the Old Tongue,” Rowan started, still looking like deep in thought. “There’s ‘me’ – this body of mine, ‘myself’ – the spirit, and then ‘I’ which is like a symbiosis or amalgamation of the two. The spirit can be thought of as a flame inhabiting and filling up a vessel – the body. Both depend on each other, the body giving a form to the spirit in the physical world and the spirit giving the body the purpose to exist. Telling it like this may sound like there are two separate entities making up a third but that’s where the language fails. There never is – never could be – anything but one.”

Giles felt his chest constrict with both deep affection and inexplicable sorrow. He started cleaning his glasses which were already sparkling clear. “How do you...?” he started, not really knowing how to continue.

“One day at a time, Rupert,” Rowan answered the unspoken question. “One day at a time – just like everyone else.”


	44. Chapter 44

“So, Mr Trick?” Mayor Wilkins prompted the dark vampire once Trick had seated himself in the guest chair.

Trick took out a wire-bound notebook and started reading his short-hand notes.

“The Slayer went directly from here to the demon bar known as Willy’s which is located in the City’s industrial district. There she initially scared the customers away but then proceeded to drink through two bottles of Jack Daniel’s whiskey. The bartender, known as Willy the Snitch, first tried to get the Slayer to leave but then, after being threatened to submission, served the Slayer what she had requested.”

“See, right there,” Wilkins said heatedly. “Blatant disregard of state law. I want to see that criminal lose his liquor license.”

“With all due respect, Sir,” Trick said smoothly. “That establishment is the only one in the area which caters to the... nocturnal aspects of Sunnydale’s populace. Shutting that down might not be politically wise.”

“I see,” Wilkins said and tapped his fingers on the tabletop a few times. “Then I guess I just have to ground our Slayer for the foreseeable future. Continue.”

“The Slayer had almost passed out when the barkeep shook her awake,” the vampire continued. “We have no independent first-hand witnesses, but the barkeep himself said that he served the Slayer a cup of coffee and sent her on her way after she refused any further assistance.”

“Child abandonment,” Wilkins muttered before continuing. “Do you believe him?”

“Secondary evidence appears to corroborate his story. I saw no need to... shake him further.”

“Alright, go on.”

“From the bar the Slayer headed in the direction of the motel she stayed in before her Watcher found herself and her charge the joined apartments where they then stayed until she was... employed by the city. En route, she was ambushed by three vampires who caused her severe bodily harm until one of her previous associates, Xander Harris, rescued her by hitting the main aggressor with his car and then kept the other two at bay with a religious symbol while helping the Slayer to his vehicle. Mr Harris drove the car to the motel where the vampires then proceeded to follow them. Then, using an old stirrup pump and some gasoline he was able to immolate their pursuers. Mr Harris left about half an hour later with his clothes in various stages of disarray.”

Wilkins looked upset. “I told her that those establishments were unsavoury, but did she listen to me? No.” Then he sighed deeply. “The kids, they grow up so fast. But I’d better give this Mr Harris some extra attention after the Ascension for corrupting my girl.”

Mr Trick flipped over to the next page in his notebook. “The Slayer herself left several hours later and headed for the apartment. She stayed there until the limo picked her up at six pm.”

“And the airport?”

Mr Trick stayed silent for several seconds and put his notebook away. When he continued, there was a contemplative look on his dark face. “Whoever did it, it was a professional hit.”

“What makes you think that?”

“It was clean. They left no eyewitnesses but, on the other hand, they didn’t kill anyone they didn’t have to, namely our Slayer. Her account of the event speaks of a tranq gun having been used on her.”

“Conclusion?”

“They weren’t interested in the Box at all. My analysis points towards the courier having double-crossed one too many powerful rivals in their endless religious rows. He was the target, not us.”

“And Faith?”

“You sent her there to prepare her for her role in the Ascension by having her premeditatively kill a human – the courier. You have the Box now, but that part of the task was not carried out.”

“Unfortunate, yes. But there’s still the good old Professor to take care of.”

“Killing him will create suspicions with the other Slayer,” Trick said after having pondered on that future task for a few seconds. “We will need a diversion to direct their focus away from the inevitable news about Worth.”

“Yes, and I think I know exactly how to keep the other Slayer occupied elsewhere. Anything else?”

“The technicians will start the installations the day after tomorrow. There’s also the high school prom taking place this week.”

“I trust you’ll have the event monitored?” Wilkins asked and rose from his chair.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Excellent. But now you’ll have to excuse me, Mr Trick. I have a private lunch appointment with my Box.”

* * *

“The prom?” Angel asked with a furrowed brow.

“End of high school, rite-of-passage thingy,” Buffy answered, sounding somewhat exasperated.

They were lying together in Angel’s bed having fallen asleep after the night’s patrol. Things were still more or less awkward between them, especially after the confrontation with the Mayor over the Box of Gavrok. They had come to the manor together hoping to be able to talk things through, but overall exhaustion felled both before any meaningful dialogue could be established.

And now, Buffy had just woken up with the worst bedhead ever and her boyfriend seemed as clueless as usual about the _really_ important milestones in a high schooler’s spring calendar.

“Think... cotillion,” Buffy tried, having dug the term from the depths of the part of her brain that still housed some memories from history lessons of the past. “With spiked punch and The Electric Slide.”

“Right,” Angel stated in a flat tone.

“Don’t worry,” Buffy tried to soothe him by caressing his chest with slow, languid movements. “It’s at night. And lots of girls have older boyfriends. You’ll blend.”

“I thought you’d...,” Angel said quietly, thinking briefly of Rowan.

“That I’d what?” Buffy asked softly.

“Nothing. I think you should maybe get goin’, huh?”

“What? No,” Buffy said in disbelief and rolled out of the bed. She walked to the nearest window which had heavy curtains pulled over it. “There must still be a few more hours before sunrise.”

She drew back the curtains and bright sliver of sunlight fell on the bed in which Angel was still lying. The vampire grunted in sudden agony and instinctively rolled over and on his feet beside the bed.

“Sorry,” Buffy grimaced apologetically and quickly pulled the curtains close again. “I guess it’s later than we thought.”

Angel was still panting with the residue of the pain as Buffy came to kiss him before carefully opening the door and walking out into the day.

* * *

“Harris!”

Xander had just turned from the sidewalk to the stairs leading to the school building when he heard his name being called. Turning around he saw a tall brunette girl in a peach-coloured summer dress approach him with a quick step.

“Well, hello there,” Xander answered with his most charming smile. He had seen the girl around school but not exchanged words with her before.

“Will you go to the prom with me?” the girl asked unceremoniously.

Xander blinked and inserted a finger in his ear, wiggling it around a bit. “I’m sorry, can you speak in my better ear. I think I heard you ask me to the prom.”

“Yes. Well?”

“Whoa. Why don’t we start with ‘hi, I’m Xander’?”

“Anya.”

Xander took a shocked step back and tripped on a stair. He fell to his butt on the concrete and held his hands up defensively. “I only asked her to the prom, and I took the rejection well. I can’t believe she would...”

“What?” Anya blinked.

“There’s no need for vengeance. I’ll go right back and apologize for my mistake.”

“Oh, get up,” Anya sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I won’t even look at girls for a mon... wee... day... before the first break. I swear.”

“Shut up and get up!” Anya nearly shouted in irritation. “If you know who I am, then you also know I lost my powers... for now.” The last two words were muttered almost inaudibly.

Still wary, Xander got back up and brushed the dust from his trousers. To his surprise Anya came by his side and, without any spoken cue, they started walking side-by-side on the grass in the direction of the quad.

“So, how did that work anyway,” Xander asked, having somewhat recovered from his shock. The girl beside him didn’t seem to be about to turn him inside out, so his natural curiosity took front seat. Giles hadn’t really elaborated on the details of the vengeance business anyway. “Women would wish horrible things on men who had wronged them, you’d show up and make it happen?”

“More or less,” Anya answered with a shrug. “The power of the wish made me a righteous sword to smite the unfaithful.”

“Well, hey, good luck with that. Hope it works out for you,” Xander stated sarcastically.

“You know, you can laugh, but I have witnessed a millennium of treachery and oppression from the males of the species and I have nothing but contempt for the whole libidinous lot of them.”

That made Xander stop and turn to face the ex-vengeance demon. “Then why are you talking to me?” he asked seriously.

Anya looked uncomfortable and couldn’t look Xander in the eyes. “It’s like I said. I don’t have a date for the prom.”

“Well, gosh, I wonder why not?” Xander said with a faked surprise. “It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with your sales pitch?”

“Men are evil,” Anya stated like it was a universal law. “Will you go with me?”

Xander felt like he was participating in a surreal sitcom. “One of us is _very_ confused and I honestly don’t know which.”

“It’s so irritating. When I lost my powers, I got stuck in this... this persona and I suddenly have all these ‘feelings’. I don’t understand it. But I wanna go to this dance and I want someone to go with me.”

“And how come I got the short straw?”

“You don’t seem to be quite as obnoxious as most of the alpha males around here.”

“Way to go with the new and not-so-very improved sales pitch.”

“Besides, you don’t have a date.”

“Hey, I just haven’t settled on anyone yet,” Xander said hurriedly, trying to salvage his manly dignity.

“Whatever. Yes or no?”

* * *

“Interesting choice,” Angel murmured as he and Buffy were just finishing the first leg of their patrol in the sewers. “I never met Anyanka, but she has quite a reputation.”

“Well, as Xander put it: ‘Choice is kind of a broad term for my situation.’”

“So, Xander is going with this Anya and Willow and Oz are going together...”

“And you’re going with me. You don’t have a tux, do you?”

“What about...?”

“Who? What?” Buffy asked, feeling vexed. Every time she brought up the upcoming dance, Angel attempted to side-step the issue and direct the conversation elsewhere.

“Rowan,” Angel asked in a tight voice.

“He volunteered for patrol duty around the school,” Buffy said brightly, not noticing Angel’s discomfort. “Giles and Gwen will be at the party, nominally ‘together’. Anyway, the party starts at...”

“We have more important things to think about than a dance, Buffy,” Angel interrupted her.

“Sorry, Giles,” Buffy huffed.

“Come on, don’t be that way,” Angel almost groaned.

“I’m not being ‘that way’. Every time I say the word ‘prom’, you get grouchy,” Buffy said with rising irritation.

“I know. It’s... it’s nothing.”

“No,” Buffy shook her head and stopped. “You have ‘something’ face.”

Not taking the basically mandatory deep breath in situations like this, Angel steeled himself for what he was about to do.

“I think we need to talk,” he said and turned around to face the Slayer.

* * *

“So, that’s it?” Willow asked in a monotone, looking with concerned eyes at her best friend who was sitting cross-legged next to her on the Slayer’s bed.

“That’s it,” Buffy replied in an equally flat tone, hugging Mr Gordo, her stuffed pig. “Assuming we survive this Ascension thing, he’s going to leave town.”

“He... he’s a fool for breaking up with you. The Mayor is just a big, stupid... bad guy. He was just trying to get under your skin, to... to create dissention in the ranks. And Angel, he’s just a big, stupid... something which I’m going to find an appropriately nasty description for in a moment. And right before the prom.”

Buffy sighed. “He’s 243 years old. He doesn’t exactly get the prom. And I think he’s right. I mean... maybe, in the long run, he’s right.”

“Yeah, I think he is. I mean, I tried to hope for the best, but... I’m sorry, it must be horrible.”

“Horrible,” Buffy whispered and shook her head a few times, all the while keeping her eyes lowered. She felt like a big bubble of something filled with crawling things was making its way up her throat. “Right now, I’m just trying to keep from dying.”

With the last shuddering word, Buffy couldn’t hold it any longer. She lowered her head on Willow’s lap and started crying. She cried until all that was left were small whimpers. Willow kept gently stroking her hair, whispering occasional soothing words in her ear. Eventually she cried herself out and fell asleep with her head still on Willow’s lap.


	45. Chapter 45

Giles, Gwen and Rowan were in the library going through their plan for the prom when Xander entered, practically dragging Cordelia in behind him.

“Bat-signal time,” Xander announced as he saw that Buffy, Willow and Oz were not present. “We’ve got a problem.”

As Giles went to his office to call the absent members of the team, Xander and the visibly shaken Cordelia came to sit at the table opposite Rowan and Gwen.

“Hello, Cordelia,” Rowan greeted her with a smile. “Nice to see you.”

Despite her shaky state, Cordelia managed a small grin. “Well, duh, Doll-face.”

Xander almost fell off his chair. “Hey! How come you have a pet name for him? You never had one for me.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Xander,” Cordelia snorted, basically on instinct. “You lost that privilege a long time ago.”

Then, seeing the brief flash of hurt on Xander’s face, Cordelia remembered why she was here. “Sorry, Xander, I had no right,” she offered sincerely. She managed a weak smile when Xander simply nodded his head.

* * *

The grainy security cam video playing on the small portable TV had them all glued to the screen; a hairy beast jumping through the display window of April Fools, first attacking Xander and then basically ripping another guy to pieces – mercifully hidden from view, mostly.

“You say the creature just stopped?” Giles asked while contemplatively sucking the temple of his eyeglasses.

“Yeah,” Xander nodded and then pointed at the screen. “Right there. It’s like it just realised it forgot to put money in the meter or something.”

“You know the other part that totally weirded me out?” Cordelia spoke out. “That thing had good taste. I mean... he chucked Xander and went right for the formalwear.”

“That’s right!” Xander said sarcastically. “It left behind its copy of ‘Monsters’ Wear Daily’.”

“I’m serious. Look at the outfit that Xander’s wearing,” Cordelia said, pointing at the still frame showing on the screen. “Now look at the kid that the monster went after. Very smooth lines... until he was shredded.”

“I don’t want to see it again,” Buffy said quietly and went to sit on the mezzanine stairs.

“I know it’s horrible, Buffy,” Gwen said soothingly. “But if you’re going to hunt this creature, you really should study it.”

“I think I got it,” Buffy said in a monotone.

“She’s right,” Willow piped in. “I mean, you’ve seen one big, hairy bringer of death, you’ve seen ‘em all.”

“No,” Rowan said quietly, making everyone turn to look at him. “That was a warg.”

* * *

“What do we know of wargs?” Gwen asked, “Besides that even the smallest bite from one can bring a painful death.”

Giles was already consulting a large tome on animal-hybrid demons. “There’s not too much info here on wargs or hell-hounds but it says that both breeds feed off the brains of their foes.”

Suddenly Cordelia sprang to her feet. “Look! Right there. Zoom in on that.”

“It’s a video tape, Cordy,” Xander reminded him.

“So? They do it on TV all the time.”

“Not with a regular VCR they don’t.”

“Cordelia, Xander! Stay on topic, please?” Gwen raised her voice at the bickering pair.

“Yes,” Willow said more quietly than she meant to. “What were you doing with Cordelia anyway?”

“What?” Xander asked, taken aback.

“Ummm... we were... I was...,” Cordelia started, keeping her eyes on the tabletop in front of her. The humiliation for being totally broke, and having a father who was about to face a long term in a federal penitentiary for tax evasion, was still too painful and fresh for her to just say it out loud in front of everybody. She also berated herself for rising up to Xander’s bait earlier in the store and just blurting it out to him. Having to work her ass off just to afford a simple prom dress didn’t help matters at all – especially since the dress she had had in mind for such a long time was now far outside her price range.

“Burning a hole in daddy’s wallet, as usual,” Xander covered loudly. “I just bumped into her during my tuxedo hunt.”

“Hey!” both Oz and Rowan suddenly exclaimed, simultaneously. “What’s that?” Oz continued.

“Xander, pause playback,” Rowan said.

“Guys!” Xander said exasperatedly. “It’s just a normal VCR. It doesn’t... Oh, wait, heh, it can do ‘pause’.”

The freeze frame showed a guy standing just outside the smashed window with what looked like an RC remote in his hands.

“Hello, Hell Hound raiser,” Xander said quietly.

* * *

“Tucker Wells,” Oz said, pointing at the yearbook picture. He turned the book around for the others to see. “He was in my chem lab.”

“What was he like?” Gwen asked.

Oz shook his head. “Not the murderous type, anyway,” he answered. “Something must have happened to him.”

Xander was reading a large tome at the table when he suddenly felt a slight nudge in his ribs. He looked quizzically at Rowan who was sitting beside him. He followed Rowan’s gaze to the still Slayer who was sitting on the stairs with a book on her lap. She seemed to be looking straight through the pages in front of her. Understanding immediately, Xander got on his feet and slowly approached Buffy.

“How’s it goin’ over there, Buff?”

“Fine.” Buffy didn’t even raise her eyes off the book.

“Well, I just wanted to say that your impersonation of an inanimate object is really coming along.”

“Thanks,” came the flat answer.

Xander stood still for a few seconds, shrugged his shoulders at Rowan and returned to the table.

“Whoah!” Willow burst out suddenly. “I got into Tucker’s school e-mail account. Just listen to this message he sent to this kid, David Metz, last week: ‘The Sunnydale High lemmings have no idea what awaits them. Their big night will be their last night.’”

“So, we have a threat against students on their big night,” Giles said and looked at the screen over Willow’s shoulder.

“A warg trained to attack people in formalwear,” Gwen nodded in agreement. “This Tucker is planning to attack the prom tonight.”

“Well, once again Hellmouth puts the ‘special’ in ‘special occasion’,” Oz commented laconically.

“Why do I even bother to buy tickets for these occasions, I ask you?” Xander huffed and slammed the pile of books in his hands onto the table.

“I wonder if I can take my dress back,” Willow said mournfully.

“Don’t you dare!” Buffy exclaimed suddenly and sprang to her feet.

“But Tucker’s gonna...,” Willow started.

“No! You guys are gonna have a prom.” Buffy proclaimed and drew herself to her full height.

“Yes, _you_ will,” Rowan said with conviction. He stood up to stand beside Buffy. “The kind of prom that you all deserve. That includes you, Buffy.”

“No, it’s my responsibility...,” Buffy tried.

“I have already promised to patrol around the school tonight, Buffy,” Rowan reminded her. “This changes nothing. I know how to fight these creatures.”

“Fine. But I’ll be there with you until the last possible minute.”

* * *

“Ok. Rowan, can you go to Tucker’s house?” Buffy started dealing out assignments. “He’s probably not there, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Consider it done.”

“Oz, you said you know this David kid that Tucker emailed. Why don’t you and Will track him down? See what he knows if he’s involved.”

“We’re on it,” Willow said and started collecting her things in her backpack.

“What about me?” Cordelia suddenly piped in.

“You?” Buffy asked incredulously.

“Yes, me,” Cordelia said and crossed her arms over her chest. “Look, I just want to help.”

Buffy’s first instinct was to tell Cordelia off, and there were lots of reasons why she should. But she knew they needed to cover lots of ground in a relatively short time and they couldn’t really afford to turn down freely given help.

“Fine,” she conceded. “You can go with Rowan and check the magic shop.” She glanced quickly at Rowan and received a nod.

“Magic shop?” Cordelia asked in a high-pitched voice. Xander became suddenly very alert.

“Yeah, it’s right next to that clothing shop on Maple Court,” Buffy reminded her.

“I can swing that one with Cordy,” Xander said almost lazily. “Is that ok?” Both Rowan and Cordelia nodded in agreement. “So, what’s the mission?”

“See if anyone’s been buying supplies to raise a warg.”

“Gotcha,” Xander nodded. “Or check and see who’s been stocking up on warg snausages. I hear those pups’ll do anything for a tasty treat.”

After everyone except the Watchers had left, Buffy stayed silent and still for a long time in contemplation.

“Giles, you say this thing eats brains. Any brains?”

“Well, erm... I suppose.”

“Then Tucker must be feeding it, right?”

* * *

“Yeah, yeah, this kid orders cow brains a couple times a week,” the butcher said, browsing through a list of order forms. “It goes to this address,” he continued, handing Buffy a slip.

“Thanks. Thanks a lot,” Buffy smiled gratefully.

“Good luck, lassie. That’s a weird kid,” the butcher chuckled as he turned to go.

As Buffy was exiting the butcher’s shop, she almost collided with Angel. They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment until Angel spoke out.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, hello to you too,” Buffy answered quietly. She briefly thought she should be feeling anger or resentment or something. But she couldn’t feel anything.

“How are you?”

“Right as rain. Whatever that means.”

Angel looked at her sceptically.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Buffy spat out, anger finally rising to the surface. “I can lie to you all I want now. We’re ‘ex’, remember?”

“If it means anything, I...”

“No, don’t you dare!” Buffy shouted, making a few of the butchery workers turn to look at her. “I can’t afford to do this right now,” she continued more quietly. “I’ve got to stop a crazy from pulling a ‘Carrie’ at the prom.”

“You’re still planning to go?” Angel asked in surprise.

“Not that it’s any of your business anymore but, yes, I’m going. Strictly in a chaperone capacity. I’m over the whole ‘Buffy gets one perfect high school moment’ thing but I’m not going to let some sub-human ruin it for the rest of the senior class.”

“Let me help you,” Angel offered as Buffy turned away from him.

“I’m ok, I’ve got Rowan. He at least is not bailing out on me on the eve of the prom.”

“Buffy, if you ever need my help...,” Angel made a last desperate offer.

Buffy turned around feeling angrier than ever since Angel had told her about Faith and the telepathic demon’s heart. “Look, I’ve got it!”

When Angel just looked at her with a sad look on his face, she felt a slight softening in her hard stance. “Thanks,” she said simply before walking away.

* * *

The last minutes of her working day having finally ticked away, Cordelia went to gather her things from the back. She took a last longing look at all the beautiful dresses on display before heading for the door.

“Hey, Cordelia,” her colleague, Rhonda, called after her, making her stop. “Don’t forget your dress. Aren’t you wearing it tonight?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I haven’t finished paying for it yet,” she answered sadly.

“Well, somebody did,” Rhonda said, looking at the paper slip fastened to the hanger.

“What? Who?” Cordelia asked, dumb-founded, and took the plastic bag to look for herself. ‘ _You...,_ ’ she thought with a sigh and a shake of her head.

“Have a lovely evening,” Rhonda called after her as she exited the store to the street.

* * *

“Nothing,” Rowan said as Buffy entered the library.

“Zero,” Willow nodded.

“Zilch,” Oz affirmed.

“Nada,” Xander concluded the briefing.

“Make not with the long faces,” Buffy said as she walked with a determined step to face the quartet. “I got the address. Now, the prom starts soon, so you three should go on. I’ll catch up as soon as we’ve put a lid on this jerk.”

Willow, Oz and Xander looked at each other in indecision, none of them wanting to be the first to move.

“Hit the door,” Buffy commanded. “Rowan and I’ve got this.”

“Buffy...,” Willow started.

“You... go... now,” Buffy said, pronouncing each syllable with terrible precision.

The trio just looked at her with open mouths. Then they stood up in one synchronized move.

“Ok, then.”

“Sure.”

“See ya at the party, Buff.”

After the trio had left, Buffy, Giles, Gwen and Rowan held a final check-up before each of them would go to prepare for the evening in their own way.

“Giles, Gwen. I want you at the gym. Keep an eye on them ‘til I get there. Rowan, take our equipment to the school and hide it in the bushes near the back entrance. I’m going to this address.”

“I need to go now, Buffy,” Gwen said and picked up her handbag. “You’re doing fine,” the Watcher smiled at her and walked out of the library.

As Buffy and Rowan were packing a duffel bag with their tools in the cage, Giles came to lean on the doorframe.

“Angel is not taking you, is he?” the ex-Watcher asked quietly.

Buffy let out a long sigh before answering. “Angel’s leaving me. After the Graduation Day, he’s leaving town, regardless of the outcome.”

She could hear Rowan mutter something in an unfamiliar language. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound very flattering. Then she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Buffy, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say,” Giles offered quietly as the two stepped out of the cage.

“Don’t, it’s ok,” Buffy said quietly. Then she looked at Giles out of the corner of her eyes. “Did you understand what Rowan just said?”

“Actually, yes, mostly. That was Ancient Sumerian – well known for its vast assortment of imaginative curses, expletives and profanities. But I’m quite sure I must have gotten it wrong, though, because what he said wouldn’t be physically possible – even to a vampire.”


	46. Chapter 46

Faith was watching the decorated gym entrance from the deep shadows of the school building. The Boss had not given her any specific instructions regarding the prom, so she was there in a strictly “civilian” capacity.

She had spotted her Watcher and Giles enter maybe a quarter-of-an-hour earlier and now her eyes followed a pair consisting of Xander and a girl who she was fairly sure was the demon whose pendant she had slashed in half at April Fools. Her instinct told her to engage the girl/demon, but seeing the two in somewhat amiable conversation with an occasional smile made her refrain from taking action.

High school seniors were entering the building in a steady stream, some as couples, some alone. Without really acknowledging it, she was keeping tally of three persons, and three persons only – Buffy, Angel and Rowan. She had yet to see a peep of any of them, so the nameless anxiety she was feeling inside just kept on pulsing like an irregular heartbeat.

Next, she spotted Cordelia, alone, but looking absolutely stunning. She smiled lopsidedly as she recalled their brief encounter at April Fools before it was interrupted by the demon she had seen with Xander just a few minutes earlier. Outside the few casual touches from the Boss, the brief hugs Cordelia gave her were the first time she had been touched with real affection since ages. Rowan had tried to comfort her in the alley when she almost killed Finch but she had rejected that out of instinct. The few cures for the second part of the H&H’s she had brought, quietly, to her first apartment didn’t count. Those had been simply mechanical acts to get the edge off. Xander... in her mind he didn’t count either as neither of them physically present had been the real participants.

Now, seeing the seniors enter the prom alone or in twos, knowing that most of them hoped to score later tonight, made her unexpectantly feel a long-buried feeling – one of longing. Of course, she could go to the nearest bar and get someone to take care of her physical needs in the blink of an eye, but, oddly, that thought didn’t give her any satisfaction like it usually did. Some part of her, buried long and deep, was perhaps telling her that she was missing something profound, something she couldn’t give a name to.

A taxi pulled over by the red carpet leading from the curb to the gym door. Oz exited the vehicle and then helped Willow with her long dress. Still no sight of any of the three she _definitely_ wasn’t waiting to witness entering the party; or at least that’s what she was telling herself.

* * *

“... she wished her husband’s head would explode, which was great, except we were standing three feet away,” Anya kept on chattering, holding on to Xander’s arm. “What a mess. Of course, during the plague, it was always parts falling off. The Renaissance, now that was...”

“Cordelia! My God in heaven, it’s good to see you,” Xander breathed out in relief at seeing the cheerleader. “How are you? Details, please... at length.”

“I’m very well, thank you,” Cordelia said with a radiant smile. “I mean it, thank _you_ ,” she continued pointedly, looking at Xander in the eyes. Then she _really_ noticed Xander’s date and her eyes widened briefly. She was just opening her mouth when a short, pleading look on the girl’s face and a mouthed “please” made her stay quiet.

“It looks good on you,” Xander shrugged, feigning indifference. He had not noticed the brief exchange between the two girls.

“Well, duh,” Cordelia grinned widely despite her slight unease. She and Xander exchanged knowing nods before Anya started dragging him away in the direction of the punch bowl.

* * *

“We got in,” Willow said happily. “Maybe we should dance before we get beseeched, bedevilled or beheaded.”

“Not gonna happen,” Oz said, shaking his head.

“You’re not even a little bit nervous?” Willow asked in surprise.

“Think Buffy and Rowan are gonna let us down?”

“Let’s try some punch.”

* * *

“I must say, all this is still rather odd to me,” Gwen said loudly with a canapé in her hand, trying to get heard over the loud music.

“Oh, yes. Being in an all-male preparatory, we didn’t go in for this sort of thing,” Giles said in the middle of munching on his own finger food.

“Oh, so you didn’t make the lowerclassmen in your school get up as girls and watch them?” Gwen asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The dip is tasty, isn’t it?” Giles said hurriedly and turned around to fill up his plate.

“Prude,” Gwen coughed delicately, trying to hide her amusement.

“Excuse me, what was that?”

“Oh, nothing,” Gwen said airily. “How do you think Buffy and Rowan are doing?”

“Yes, Rowan, right. I’ve been meaning to ask...”

“Don’t,” Gwen interrupted him gently. “’He’s very good’. I know what that means now. There are no regrets, on either side. I will be eternally grateful to him, for what he did, but I also know that we can’t...,” she continued but fell silent as Xander and a pretty, brunette girl approached them.

* * *

“I don’t get it,” Buffy said contemplatively as she walked down the stairs to the dank basement. “What kind of sicko would want to destroy the happiest night in a senior’s life?”

The guy in the basement, Tucker presumably, had been kneeling in front of a wire cage inside which a hairy beast was snarling and growling. Hearing her words he jumped up and backed away until his back hit a shelf full of tools. He reached behind him and grabbed a long screwdriver in his hand. “I have my reasons,” he said derisively. ( _‘Will you go to the prom with me?’... ‘No.’_ )

“Whatever,” Buffy shrugged. “Every mal-adjust has their reasons,” she continued, sounding almost bored and let her gaze circle around the room. There were posters of models in tuxedos and evening dresses taped to one wall. On a side table sat a portable TV and a VCR. Next to them was a pile of cassette boxes with hand-written titles. She could see titles like ‘Carrie’, ‘Prom Night’ I-IV and ‘Pretty In Pink’.

“So, that’s how you brainwashed the wargs to go psycho on prom night?” Buffy asked while slowly approaching Tucker.

“Neat, huh?” Tucker grinned maniacally and brandished the screwdriver.

“Luckily for me, you’re an incompetent mal-adjust,” Buffy said and, using her Slayer speed, grabbed Tucker’s hand holding the screwdriver and twisted it around behind his back. A little pressure and the tool fell from Tucker’s grip. She noticed an old lamp on one of the shelves. After smashing it to pieces against the wall, she tied Tucker’s wrists tightly with the cord.

“Ok. Now, I’m gonna lock you in here,” she said brightly and pushed Tucker not too gently against the wall next to a narrow door in the back of the room. “And then I’m gonna party like it’s 19...” She fell silent at seeing the three empty cages, similar to the one holding the warg just behind them.

“Gotta have a redundancy system,” Tucker sneered. “Any incompetent knows that. My three fiercest babies are on their way to the dance right now. You think formalwear makes them crazy. Wait until they see the mirror ball.”

* * *

Faith became suddenly very alert as first her Slayer sense tingled and then her enhanced hearing picked up approaching, very un-animal-like growls, emerging from several throats. Abandoning her surveillance post she rushed around the corner of the building and stopped like she had hit a wall. Rowan was standing on a patch of grass with a cross-bow in his hands. Three hairy beasts were running towards him like rabid greyhounds on steroids. Faith saw him calmly raise the cross-bow and then blue flames suddenly flicked along the length of the bolt. She heard the “twang” and then one of the beasts fell over with the shaft of the bolt half-way inside its mouth and the tip protruding out from the back of its head.

The two other beasts turned on their fallen companion and spent a few seconds ripping it to pieces. Then their ears pricked and they turned around and started loping in the direction of the gym door. Faith saw Rowan look slowly over his shoulder directly at her and then start marching in her direction with a purposeful step. She stood still in shock and was totally unprepared for the punch to the side of her head which spun her around.

“The place is being watched,” she heard a low whisper, made only for a Slayer’s hearing to pick up. “Make it look good.”

Understanding immediately, Faith leapt into action herself.

* * *

Buffy let out a relieved breath after the second warg went limp with a broken neck. She tried to give a reassuring smile to the guy who was leaning against the wall with his eyes big as saucers. He was most likely someone’s escort as she didn’t recognize him. “Bathroom?” he offered weakly.

Pushing the dead weight away from her, she pointed helpfully down the corridor. “Second door on the right.”

When the guy had vanished into the bathroom, she grabbed the two dead wargs and started pulling them out of the building. She would hide them away from sight and hope that the morning light would make the bodies vanish.

* * *

It was a dance, the one that had been denied her that night at the Bronze. The beat was skill, the tune – violence. Both Faith and Rowan were sporting several cuts and bruises but neither was slowing down.

“It’s going to happen on Graduation Day,” Rowan whispered as they got into close contact.

“What can I do?” Faith whispered back as she avoided a head-butt. “I have nothing. I’ve failed.”

“No. You have done an enormous job already. But we need the Books.”

“The Books?” she asked, not initially comprehending. Before she could ask anything further, she saw Rowan look quickly over her shoulder and then drop his defence almost imperceptibly.

Faith’s next move was already in motion and her boot connected with the side of Rowan’s head without anything to block it. Before he dropped like a stone, she could see his lips form two words, “for you”. She didn’t have time to gawk; instead she looked quickly behind her and saw Buffy in the distance running towards them. Not wasting another second, she started running for her life and, as far as she knew, for the lives of all those living in Sunnydale.

* * *

Having hidden the two bodies, Buffy started looking around for Rowan. There had been three empty cages in Tucker’s basement and she had taken care of two of their former occupants. She could only hope that Rowan had managed to stop the third.

Rounding the corner of the building she had to blink twice at the scene unfolding some distance away from her on the green. Rowan was fighting Faith with what looked like no holds barred. She started running but then Faith managed to connect with Rowan’s head making him fall to the ground. Her eyes met Faith’s briefly but then the brunette ran away at full speed.

Buffy knew that pursuit would be futile; their initial distance had been too great for her to catch up. So, she stopped at Rowan’s side and noticed the missing warg a short distance away with most of its guts spilling out of its ripped belly and a crossbow bolt through its head.

“Rowan, are you ok?” she asked quietly, shaking her unconscious friend’s shoulder. She smiled briefly when a painful groan answered her.

“Buffy?” Rowan asked quietly and opened his eyes slightly.

“I’m here,” Buffy answered gently.

“The wargs?”

“We got them, all three who got loose. What about Faith?” She couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice as she asked about the other Slayer.

“Later,” Rowan promised quietly. “You should go. Your dress and shoes are in the other duffel bag, three windows away from the back door. I’ll be fine in a few moments.”

“But...”

“No buts, Slayer. You... go... now.”

Smiling at her own words thrown back at her, she briefly squeezed Rowan’s shoulder and stood up. Maybe now she could really party like it was 19...

* * *

Gwen was the first to notice Buffy’s entrance to the gym where the party was at full swing. She nudged Giles’ side briefly and when she had her colleague’s attention, nodded towards the entrance with a smile on her face.

“Can I have this dance, Mr Giles,” she asked coyly after she had noticed the exchange of smiles between Buffy and Giles. It felt like a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders.

“It would be my pleasure, Ms Post,” Giles answered with a smile of his own and held out his hand to the young Watcher.

* * *

“Buffy, you look awesome!” Willow exclaimed as she embraced her best friend.

“So do you,” Buffy answered with a lightness in her voice that didn’t go unnoticed by either Willow or Oz.

“Everything cool?” Oz asked with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.

“Coolest,” Buffy nodded. “Devil dogs are history.”

“Rowan?” Oz prompted.

“He’s fine. He had an encounter with Faith and she clocked him pretty good. He said he’d be fine, though.”

“Faith?” Willow asked in alarm.

“Yeah, seems she was spying on the party and they got into a fight. But enough of that. How’s the prom?”

“Strangely affecting,” Oz said. “I teared up when they played ‘We Are Family’.”

“Everything is perfect,” Willow said with a wide smile.

Buffy couldn’t help but smile in relief herself. It was... almost perfect.

* * *

“You did good work tonight, Buffy. You and Rowan both,” Giles said quietly by the Slayer’s shoulder as Buffy was watching her friends dance with their partners on the dance floor.

“And I got a little toy surprise,” Buffy said with a grin, brandishing the “Class Protector” award she had been granted a few minutes earlier.

“Yes,” Giles chuckled. “And don’t tell Rowan, but UPS delivered a certain package just before I left.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So, we both got... awarded.”

“Indeed, but in your case, I had no idea that children, _en masse_ , could be... gracious.”

“Every now and then people surprise you,” Buffy said quietly.

“Every now and then,” Giles nodded, glancing over Buffy’s shoulder. He smiled secretively and took the sparkling umbrella from Buffy’s hand.

The song changed as Buffy followed Giles’ gaze to the entrance. There, in a gorgeous tux stood Angel looking both anxious and apprehensive. Every peripheral thought left Buffy’s mind as they started approaching each other in perfectly synchronized steps. What felt like a cliché, all dancers in between them seemed to instinctively make way for them and the slow tempo of the song seemed to slow down even further. With each step she took in the direction of the impeccably dressed vampire, in what felt like slow-motion, wargs, Rowan, Ascension, even Faith left her conscious mind and took a back seat.

“I never thought you’d come,” Buffy said hoarsely as they met in the centre of the dance floor.

“Big night,” Angel said, looking into her eyes. “Didn’t wanna miss it.”

They both looked at each other, wanting the other to make the next move. Angel caved first.

“It’s just tonight,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t mean that I...”

“I know,” Buffy answered equally softly. “I mean... I understand.”

“I saw Rowan outside. He...”

“Shhh,” Buffy whispered. “It’s ok. Everything is alright for tonight.”

Angel nodded in understanding. “Will you dance with me?”

Buffy didn’t answer at first, just smiled knowingly and stepped into Angel’s personal space. She held her arms out for the vampire.

“Yes.”

* * *

Faith half-sat, half-lounged on her couch with a bottle of JD in an unsteady grip. She took another long swig, wanting the low, whispering voices in her head to mute.

_‘For you... One of us here is a child of light... I trust you... The Books... For you... Yes, I know it. Let’s do it... I’ll stand by you... He’s immortal; you’re not... What are you doing here?... Saving a damsel in distress, it seems... For you... For you...’_

The wetness on her face was from the spilled drink, she convinced herself, before unconsciousness took over her.


	47. Interlude - The Morning After

“Now, _that_ is a thing of beauty,” Giles said in awe as Rowan reverently slid the sword out of its scabbard for the first time. He knew that Rowan had spent a considerable amount of time specifying even the smallest details, and the end result was simply breath-taking.

“It feels... right,” Rowan said with a wide grin as he tested the weight and balance in his hands. Then, to Giles’ astonishment Rowan made a small cut in his hand and murmured something in the Old Tongue.

Rowan noticed Giles’ surprise. “It’s an old ritual. ‘Let my blood be the first and last you’ll ever draw.’”

“Are you going to name the blade?” Giles asked curiously.

“No,” Rowan shook his head. “If it has one, it will eventually be revealed to me.”

“Can I...?” Giles asked hesitantly. He didn’t know if it was an insult with Rowan and his kind for someone to ask to handle something this personal.

“Of course, Rupert,” Rowan said without hesitation. “Without you I wouldn’t even have this. Let’s go to the back yard and I’ll show you some basic forms.”

“Splendid, and later, if you don’t mind, I’ll show you some fencing moves I learned at Oxford.”

* * *

Buffy woke up in her bed feeling... serene. Having Angel show up at the prom and dance with her without any further expectations had closed one chapter in her life. She still loved Angel and probably always would, but now they had a common baseline on which to build a future relationship, if such a thing existed past the Graduation Day. Regardless, they were now more or less free of any excess baggage that might end up hurting their performance in the eventual battle to stop the Mayor’s Ascension.

They had talked, at length, while Angel escorted her home after the dance. They had kept it light, though, neither wanting to revert back to the awkward silences and brooding. It would take time and distance before they could really reflect back on their common past, but it would eventually be done with what she hoped to be a clean slate.

* * *

Faith returned the phone to the receiver with a trembling hand. She had come to recognize the Boss’ tones when he handed out assignments to her. The name “Professor Lester Worth” and the way it had been delivered spoke volumes to her. Wilkins wanted the guy dead and he wanted Faith to do it. Of course, the Boss hadn’t said it outright over the phone but she was quite sure that, for some reason, Wilkins wasn’t satisfied until she had killed a human at his orders.

She had woken up earlier, still on the couch, drenched in pungent-smelling liquid; she had spilled the rest of the JD on her as she passed out. And now, she felt like there was a constant itch inside. She didn’t want to face the feelings that were slowly surfacing and were harder and harder to keep buried. ‘ _Fuck you_ ,’ she snarled in her mind while the words ‘ _for you_ ’ whispered in her ear.

* * *

They had finally done it, Willow grinned to herself. Months of circling around it, hesitantly approaching it, and now they had finally consummated their relationship. They had almost done it after the Christmas Eve extravaganza at Buffy’s but had eventually deemed it to be still too soon despite the underlying tension.

She smiled at the warm body lying half atop of her, smelling faintly of something... animalistically musky. She had never said the “L” word aloud to Oz but she was now tasting it on her tongue. She was just about to open her mouth when Oz stirred and opened his eyes to look at her. The moment was over and she fell back to just smiling at her lover. At least she had _really_ thought about it.

* * *

Xander brooded, in frustration, as he was taking care of the morning wood in his normal way. Under ideal circumstances he would have had Anya in bed with him and, just maybe, woken up with her luscious lips around his...

“Xander, are you awake? Breakfast’s ready,” came his mother’s morning-rough voice from the basement door as she knocked on it forcefully.

“Yeah, Ma, just coming,” he half-moaned / growled as he came, bereft of the usual relief.

* * *

Gwen was humming to herself as she prepared her breakfast tea. It had been a pleasant evening at the prom, just enjoying herself after Buffy had arrived and told them that the warg threat had been dealt with. She and Rupert had danced several dances together, just quietly enjoying what was perhaps the last relaxing time before they would have to face the Ascension. Rupert had been a total gentleman the whole evening, despite the overpowering hormonal atmosphere in the gym – especially as the party eventually started nearing its end.

She had never fancied her colleague that way even though, at least in the beginning, Rupert had perhaps harboured some desires for her. Her then attitude had quenched any budding flames quickly and afterwards there had really been no desire to return to something that might have been.

Having seen Buffy enter the party in a gorgeous dress after what had to have been a gruesome fight, gave her a small hope that maybe Rowan, too, would surprise them and join the party in a perfectly-tailored tux – like Angel. That hadn’t happened, as it was never the deal anyway, but a small lingering wish to see her one-time lover in formalwear had not left her for the remains of the evening.

* * *

Angel had thought that the _t’ai chi_ would help calm his mind but the lingering doubts were still there. Oh, they had reached a sort-of understanding with Buffy but, for him, the perspective was much longer than for the Slayer. There were 243 years in his past and an infinity of them in his future, night after night after night. He couldn’t avoid his mind turning to Darla, Drusilla and Buffy – the three most important women in his long life. One way or another he had lost each of them.

Three years ago the weird demon, Whistler, had brought him out of his self-destructive spiral and shown him Buffy and her first Watcher in L.A. He had been mesmerized, obsessed, captivated by the petite blonde and finally been inexorably drawn to her. The Slayer and a vampire together, the most unlikely pairing imaginable. Had he been in love with her? Or had he just been in love with the idea of being in love with her?

He snarled in frustration; his inner balance gone once again.


	48. Chapter 48

Angel strode across Sunnydale’s central square still feeling the same nameless anxiety inside. He looked briefly at the large clock on the main façade of the City Hall; his regular supplier’s shift at the butchery wouldn’t start for another half-an-hour. Despite it being still quite early in the evening, there were only a few people around, and the square itself was totally empty.

He had just passed by the town founder’s statue in front of the City Hall when he noticed Rowan walking in his direction from the other side of the square.

“Angel,” Rowan nodded as they came close to each other.

“Rowan,” Angel acknowledged him, unable to keep the vehemence away from his voice.

“So fierce,” Rowan said evenly and stopped in his tracks.

“Stay away from Buffy,” Angel growled, finally able to say out loud the thing that had been gnawing at him in the back of his mind. The anger in his voice managed to surprise even himself.

“Really? What are you going to do if I decide not to?” Rowan asked, tilting his head to the side a little with an expression of honest curiosity on his face.

“Get out of my way!” Angel snarled through clenched teeth and walked past Rowan.

“Running away already?” he heard Rowan say behind him.

Angel turned around with a growl, wearing his game face, and Rowan shifted his stance almost imperceptibly. To a normal bystander it would have seemed that both were standing seemingly relaxed, but a fighter could instantly recognize that both were ready to lash out with deadly violence in the blink of an eye if even a slight advantage presented itself.

“You can’t win this one, Angel,” Rowan said evenly.

“Then I might as well go down fighting,” Angel replied.

* * *

Buffy had just finished sweeping the Shady Hill cemetery and was crossing the city centre on her way back home. It had been a quiet night – only three dusted vamps. Like every night nowadays, she was feeling... dissatisfied after the action. Despite everything, she still couldn’t help but miss Faith deep down inside. She missed their good-natured bantering, their seemingly effortless co-operation and even the shared post-slaying rush, or H&H as Faith called it. She had occasionally seen the desire in Faith’s eyes when her sister Slayer looked at her after a fight, but she had always been too embarrassed to do anything but turn away.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw Angel and Rowan standing ahead of her, locked in a staring contest.

* * *

Angel was waiting for the slightest hesitation or lack of focus from his opponent to launch an attack. He knew Rowan was a master in armed and unarmed combat and he had been secretly hoping for a real opportunity to test his own skills against the _Lehaïr’s_.

Then it was there, an almost imperceptible shift. Angel saw Rowan’s amber eyes flick over his shoulder for the City Hall. But before he could even react, Rowan was suddenly face-to-face with him and he felt stiff fingers, like iron rods, strike him in the solar plexus. It seemed to Angel that his opponent hadn’t actually bothered to cover the distance between them. One moment Rowan had been standing perhaps six feet away from him, and the next Angel was doubling over in body-numbing pain.

Falling to his knees, Angel heard a soft whispering sound pass close by his head and then a “thunk”. Looking up through the haze in his eyes, he saw something he couldn’t comprehend. Rowan was standing above him, eyes closed. The expression on his face was of immense pain, and before Angel could fully assess the situation, Rowan slowly fell to his knees in front of him and, like in slow motion, collapsed sideways to the ground. A black arrow was protruding from his left shoulder. Angel heard him take a rattling breath and then go totally limp.

* * *

The follow-up to the arrow hitting Rowan seemed to Buffy to be happening in slow motion. She started moving but felt like she was wading through water. The distance between her and the two didn’t seem to close at all and the scream that left her lungs didn’t seem to make any sound.

Angel was kneeling beside Rowan when Buffy slid on her knees to the opposite side of the still body.

“Angel?” she asked through a suddenly tight throat.

“He... he must have seen someone on the roof of the City Hall and he just... acted. I have never seen anyone move so fast. That arrow was meant for me and he took it. I challenged him and... he must have known it was for real – yet, he never hesitated.”

They looked at each other, thinking the same.

“Faith,” Buffy said finally.

* * *

When Faith hesitantly entered the Mayor’s office, Wilkins was standing in front of the large windows and silently beckoned her to join him. At first, she couldn’t understand what he was looking at but then her gaze locked on the scene unfolding below them in the square. She started shivering uncontrollably and it took all her inner strength to try to remain outwardly calm.

‘ _Rowan, no!_ ’ her mind screamed as the arrow struck. She wanted to lash out, at anything, but she had to remain steadfast, for him.

“Well, that was entertaining,” she heard Wilkins say cheerfully and felt his arm around her shoulders. “Not the expected outcome, though, but this will do nicely, very nicely indeed.”

She felt the Mayor’s eyes upon her and forced herself to look at him and project a smile.

“Nice, Boss,” she managed to say, trying to match the Mayor’s cheerfulness but fearing that her voice sounded just as hollowly dull as she felt inside.

Wilkins was looking back at her with an unreadable expression and then nodded.

“I forgot to mention to our Mr Trick that there would be some refreshments waiting for him in the guest lounge. Why don’t you pop out and tell him that before we discuss the details of your next assignment? That shot of his was magnificent, don’t you think so?”

“Yeah, spectacular, Boss,” she said simply, starting for the door.

Wilkins had already turned away from her, heading back to his desk. Sitting down, he used a remote to turn on a TV monitor sitting on a side table and leaned back to watch the black and white picture. His fingers were idly drumming on the cover of the final volume of the Books of Ascension lying on his desk.

* * *

Faith walked like a robot along the carpet-covered corridor and up two flights of personnel-only stairs to the third floor where the entrance to the service staircase leading to the roof was. Just as she reached the door which opened to the service staircase, Mr Trick came through it holding the same compound bow she had used previously and thick workers’ gloves.

“Well, Slayer, that’s how we do things downtown,” the vampire said flashing his white teeth. “‘Willingly given, forcibly taken.’ Let’s see them try to figure that one out,” he chuckled.

“The Boss told me to take you to the guest lounge. There are some refreshments waiting for you there,” she said in a monotone.

“I hope it’s something young. Lead on, Macduff.”

At the lounge door, Faith opened it and motioned for Trick to enter. The vampire stepped into the room and looked around in bafflement.

“I don’t see any...,” he managed to say before the stake Faith was suddenly holding in her hand went through his back into his heart.

“That was for Rowan, you bastard,” she spat at the pile of dust on the carpet. “And it’s ‘Lay on, Macduff’, moron. At least get your fucking quotes right.”

It took a few seconds for the repercussions of her impulsive act to finally register in her brain. Then she realized she would have to leave – and leave quickly. Her cover would be totally blown by morning, if not earlier, and she needed to be far away by then.

‘ _Shit, shit, shit! I totally blew it. Rowan might be dead, and I still have nothing solid on the Ascension plans. Way to go with the trust, Lehane._ ’

She tried to project an outward calm as she closed the lounge door behind her and started backtracking her way to the main staircase. Just as she passed the Mayor’s office, she heard the door open and Wilkins call her from within.

“Faith, could you please come in here for a second. There are a few things to discuss still.”

One of the Mayor’s vampire lackeys was holding the door open and Faith entered with apprehension. There was another vampire standing inside by the other half of the double door.

“Yeah, Boss?” she asked trying to sound innocent and curious.

She walked to the Mayor’s desk looking around for any indications of trouble. There was a TV monitor on the side table showing static which she hadn’t noticed before. The vampires closed the office door and moved to stand in front of both halves of the double doors like regular security guys. Wilkins had his chair turned sideways to face the monitor.

“You see, Faith. After Ms Summers and her gang infiltrated these offices, I decided to have a CCTV system installed on this and the upper floor. I’m sorry I forgot to mention this to you, being so busy with the really important stuff and all. The first cameras were set in place earlier today. I’d like you to review the test footage we just recorded.” The Mayor indicated to the monitor and pressed play on the remote.

Faith’s heart jumped to her throat when she saw a grainy view of the guest lounge appear on the screen. The door opened, Mr Trick came into the room, looked around and was dusted by her. She heard her voice say “ _That was for Rowan, you bastard_.” The Mayor pressed stop on the remote and turned his chair around to face her.

“I had such high hopes for you, Faithy,” he said with a shake of his head, sounding almost regretful. “I had planned for you to be the guest of honour at my Ascension ball but now I think I’ll have to re-assign you to a _hors d’oeuvre._ You’ve been a bad girl, Faith. I’m very disappointed. Seize her!” The last was directed at the two vamps standing by the doors.

Suppressing a growing numbness and panic (‘ _You’ve been a bad girl again, huh, slut?_ ’), Faith looked quickly behind her and saw the vamps open the double doors. Six additional vampires were waiting outside in the corridor.

“Oh, by the way. Thank you for correcting the Macbeth quote,” she heard the Mayor say absentmindedly. “Can’t abide such appalling ignorance.”

Acting on instinct, Faith kicked the heavy desk with all her strength and saw it hit the Boss squarely in the chest. The Mayor’s wheeled office chair tumbled backwards and Wilkins was thrown to the floor between the desk and the wall. The large book which had been resting on the desk fell to the carpet in front of her. Quickly picking it up from the floor and turning to face the window, she took a few running steps and dove through the large glass aperture holding the book in front of her for protection.


	49. Chapter 49

Faith hit the ground twenty feet below and tried to roll with the impact. The book was knocked out of her hands but landed nearby, seemingly intact. Pure agony ran up both her legs when she struggled to stand. Her hands were bleeding profusely and something sticky was finding its way down her scalp. Gritting her teeth, she picked up the book and started hobbling painfully away. Damaged legs or no, staying meant certain death. Her former Boss was sure to send his goonies after her.

Her instinct took Faith first to the spot where the earlier scene had taken place; all three who had been there were naturally gone. There was, however, a trail of blood leading away from the City Hall. ‘ _Angel must be carrying him, but where? Not the hospital... Giles’ and Revello are in the other direction. Where was it that B said Angel’s place was...? Something about a mansion... on Crawford Street._ ’ The trail of blood seemed to corroborate her conclusion, so she started painfully limping in the direction of Crawford Street.

* * *

“What’s the matter?” Buffy said anxiously as Angel cursed with a needle in his hand.

“There’s nothing I can do,” the vampire replied. “Whatever is in his blood instantly dissolves the stitches and the bandages.”

“Wh-what’s going to happen to him?” Buffy choked.

“With the current rate of blood loss, he’ll die just from it in a day or two, at the latest, if the poison itself doesn’t kill him sooner.” Angel said quietly. “We can’t take him to the hospital for a transfusion as his body wouldn’t accept human blood anyway.”

At this revelation Buffy and Angel shared a look. ‘ _It would have been me if not for...,_ ’ Angel’s eyes were saying and Buffy nodded with tears coming to her eyes.

“His glamour!” Buffy suddenly remembered. “He might be able to take human blood in his glamour form.”

“Try to reach Giles and Gwen on the pay phone near the junction,” Angel said. “If they don’t answer, go check the library and then Giles’ place. Take a taxi. Hurry, we can’t afford to lose any time.”

Loath to leave but hearing the wisdom in Angel’s words, Buffy nodded and rushed outside.

* * *

Faith leaned herself against the mansion’s wall, just outside the entrance, panting heavily. She felt totally drained and just wanted to collapse there and wait to be found; whether by Buffy and Angel or someone else. It didn’t matter.

‘ _Not an option, girl_ ,’ she told herself and looked inside through a window. She drew back instantly as she saw Buffy rush for the doors.

She made sure Buffy was far outside seeing and hearing range before she quietly opened the door herself.

* * *

Angel had been standing by the bed for several minutes when a figure appeared at the entrance to the bedroom.

“Faith! What...?” he started when he saw the Slayer enter the room hesitantly and close the door behind her. She seemed to be in pain and her movements were jerky and halting. He shrugged that off as he suddenly understood and moved to block Faith’s way to the bed.

“You came here to finish the job! Faith, I swear I’ll kill you if you try to get near him. Get out!”

To his surprise Faith just stood there looking dejected with a large book held between her arm and body. She lowered the book slowly in a chair and showed her bloody hands to him.

“I know,” she sighed. “Bad Faith, Mayor’s lackey, yada-yada-yada. Believe me, I don’t want to harm him. I saw what happened on the square. It was Trick. He shot Rowan from the roof of the City Hall. I dusted him and the Mayor found out. He was about to have me seized and eventually killed but I escaped with this,” she said pointing at the large tome lying in the chair beside her.

Angel took one look at the symbols on the cover.

“That’s... that’s a Book of Ascension,” he gasped. His suspicions were still holding strong but he was prepared to give Faith the benefit of the doubt.

“Look, Faith. You killed a man and went to the Mayor of you own free will. Is this another trick?”

“No tricks, Fang. I know you don’t believe me but it was all part of a plan. We heard about the Ascension from Finch, and Rowan asked me to go undercover.”

“Finch? But you killed him!”

“I almost did, and not only him. Finch was killed by a curse the Bo... Mayor put on him to prevent him from revealing Wilkins’ secrets, including the Ascension. Then he wanted me to kill the courier transporting the Box of Gavrok, but something happened and I didn’t have to. Just before I bailed, he wanted me to kill some nobody, a university professor; Lester Worth, or something like that. Look, we need to help Rowan. He can clear me.”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Angel shook his head, mulling Faith’s revelation in his mind. “Buffy is trying to reach Giles but I know there won’t be enough time to find an antidote before he has lost enough blood to kill him. And you don’t want to be found here when Buffy and the others get here. Without Rowan backing you up, there’s no way they’ll believe your story.”

“Do _you_ believe me?” Faith asked, looking into the vampire’s eyes.

“I do, but that’s neither here nor there. By the way, what’s your angle in all this? I’m here because he willingly took an arrow meant for me, but what about you? I find it hard to believe that you turned spy just because he asked you to.”

Faith was silent for a long while but then something in Angel’s words stirred a memory. ‘ _Willingly._ ’ She suddenly remembered.

“Angel, does ‘willingly given, forcibly taken’ mean anything to you?”

“Where did you hear that?” Angel asked totally dumbfounded.

“That’s what Trick said after he shot Rowan. ‘Willingly given, forcibly taken. Let’s see them try to figure that one out.’”

“And you just happened to be there when he said it?”

“Got it in one, Soul Boy. What does it mean?”

Angel muttered something which sounded very much like “Fallacy of the Talking Killer”.

“Sorry, couldn’t quite catch that,” Faith prompted.

“Never mind,” Angel interrupted. “Anyway, it describes the antidote to one of the rarest mystical poisons in the world. Now I know why the arrow smelled familiar.”

“What are you talking about? There’s an antidote? We need to get it! Where, Angel? Where?”

“You’re not going to believe this, Faith.”

* * *

“‘Blood of a vampire, willingly given. Blood of the Slayer forcibly taken’,” Faith repeated in a dull voice. Her head and legs were hurting like sonofabitch and she seemed to have trouble focusing her eyes. “I know you are willing to give your blood, but so am I. So, how do we...?”

Suddenly there was a dark shape right in front of her.

“Maybe this will help,” Angel growled and before Faith could react, she felt sharp teeth pierce her neck.

* * *

Buffy had finally been able to reach Giles and immediately wanted to strangle him with the phone cord. He had been “just resting his eyes”. She had quickly explained the situation with Rowan and begged him to start researching for an antidote. Giles had tried to sound positive but Buffy could hear in his voice the hopelessness that she herself was trying to keep away. He had promised to contact Gwen and hit the books immediately based on the description of Rowan’s symptoms Buffy gave him. She had also tried, unsuccessfully, to call Xander and Willow a few times but they weren’t home. ‘ _Probably having a good time with their sweethearts_ ,’ she thought somewhat wistfully.

She walked slowly back to the mansion with a heavy heart. She had just quietly opened the main door when she heard a male and a female voice in discussion on the other side of the closed bedroom door, which she distinctly remembered leaving open. ‘ _It can’t be_ ,’ she blinked and kicked the door open.

Taking in the scene quickly, she lost all sense of rationality. Angel was there with his game face on, incisors and lips red with fresh blood. Faith was standing a few feet away from him on Rowan’s bedside holding a knife in her hand. She had a bleeding puncture wound in the side of her neck.

“Get away from him, bitch!” she roared in a voice she hardly recognized her own. She couldn’t say whether she meant Angel, or Rowan, or both.

“B..., Buffy, I...,” she heard Faith say haltingly, but she was too far gone to listen.

She drove her fist to Faith’s jaw and grabbed the hand which held the knife. They struggled back and forth and eventually made their way back to the main hall. To her surprise Buffy realized that Faith had trouble holding her stance and that she appeared uncommonly weak. Shrugging all that off behind the red haze before her eyes, she suddenly reversed the motion of her arms, brought their joined hands around and slammed them against Faith’s abdomen.

She could vaguely hear Angel’s cry of “No!” before everything froze.

The red haze vanishing from her eyes, she could see Faith looking at her with hurt and something very much like gratitude. She let her eyes drift down and to her horror she realized that the knife Faith had been holding was still in their joined hands which were now touching Faith’s white top.

“No, Faith! I didn’t...”

“You, you’ve killed me, B,” Faith whispered through clenched teeth. There was no pain, yet. It actually felt quite peaceful. Even her legs didn’t hurt that much anymore. “Somehow I always knew...”

She drew away from Buffy and saw the blonde Slayer’s hand appear in her vision and then the red blade. ‘ _His knife, my blood_ ,’ she thought fleetingly. She staggered backwards to the main doors, taking a last look at the still figure lying in bed in the next room.

“Faith, wait! There’s no blood on your...,” she heard Buffy say before she was outside, trying through dimming eyes to see where the path to the street was.

‘ _I’m sorry, Bright Eyes_ ,’ she was thinking groggily as she staggered to the street with her hands pressed against her stomach. She couldn’t yet feel the warm liquid that she was sure was flowing out of her guts and through her fingers. Suddenly she saw bright lights, heard a screeching noise. Then something hit her like a rhino and everything faded to black. ‘ _I’m sorry I didn’t have time to tell you I lo..._ ’

* * *

Buffy was staggering herself as she tried to follow Faith on legs that felt like Jell-O. She just stared, dumbfounded, as Faith made her way unsteadily to the street, then across it until a car rounding a corner hit her. The car immediately sported flashing red and blue lights; her sister Slayer had been run over by an ambulance.

“Buffy, the blade!” Buffy heard Angel’s urgent voice behind her.

“What?” she said uncomprehendingly, looking at the glistening, red-coated blade of the knife which her hand was still convulsively gripping by the handle.

“Quickly, nick my palm then go and touch Rowan’s shoulder with it.”

They watched in amazement as the mixed vampire and Slayer blood was sucked from the blade into the gaping hole in Rowan’s shoulder. Almost immediately the slow flow of blood from the wound ceased and new skin spread to cover the hole. Rowan’s breathing eased noticeably and his face relaxed. They were actually expecting him to wake up like nothing had happened, but he remained unconscious.

“Ok, what just happened?” Buffy asked in a voice that to her seemed come from far away.

“The antidote – vampire’s blood mixed with Slayer’s.”

“How...?”

“Let me see that knife, Buffy,” Angel said.

It took a while before Buffy could unwrap her fingers from around the hilt. The patterns had left deep grooves in the palm of her hand.

“Angel...,” Buffy said in a small voice after getting her first good look of the knife.

“What’s wrong?”

“Rowan took that knife from Balthazar. They used it to torture you. I never told you this before but we saw you almost pass out from small cuts they made with that knife.”

“That devious son-of-a-troll...,” Angel said in awe as he turned the knife around in his hands, finally recognizing the blade.

“What is it?” Buffy asked not understanding anything anymore.

“This is what is called a ‘ _Lepida Pneumatos_ ’ or Spirit Blade. They are very, very rare; I didn’t think any still existed. It is said that they can be... bound by someone skilful enough to perform certain deeds.”

“Like what?”

“Make your sworn enemies feel like they had been impaled from only a small cut,” Angel said avoiding Buffy’s eyes.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Buffy said knowing Angel.

“They can be prohibited to seriously harm anyone the binder or the one wielding it has strong positive feelings for,” Angel continued in an emotionless voice.

There was a thundering silence between them.

“Buffy...,” Angel started.

Buffy raised her hand and shook her head.

“Stop, please. I...I... have to get out of here. You... Rowan... Faith. I... we need to...” With that she turned and left.

Angel stood there without moving for several minutes deep in thought.

‘ _A Spirit Blade. Buffy struck Faith but their hands were joined on the hilt. Faith suffered no physical damage, yet there was Slayer blood on the blade afterwards. Faith wanted to have her blood drawn, yet it was forcibly taken and was acceptable as a component for the antidote._ ’ He turned to look at the unconscious figure lying in the bed. ‘ _Are you aware of the price you may have to pay, I wonder? The pendulum can swing either way. But of course you are. You are one of the bravest persons I’ve ever known,_ Framadar _._ ’

Then he remembered the tome lying in the chair beside the door. He had totally forgotten to mention it to Buffy.

“Angel? Wh-what happened?” he suddenly heard Rowan’s whispering voice address him. “You got me this badly?”

“You took a poisoned arrow meant for me,” Angel answered quietly, taking a seat on the bedside. The whole situation reminded him of a reversed one that had taken place in the same room after the fight with Balthazar and the Eliminati.

“It wasn’t Faith,” Rowan said urgently and tried to get out of bed. “It was one of the Mayor’s...”

Angel pushed him gently back. “I know. Faith told me.”

“She... told you?” Rowan asked in amazement. “She was here?”

“Yes,” Angel nodded. “After you were hit by the arrow, Buffy and I took you here. Then we...”

* * *

“I need to get to the hospital,” Rowan said after Angel had finished his recount of the events. “The Mayor is sure to come after her.”

“Yes,” Angel nodded. “I’ll take you there and then the Book to Giles.”

“Have him also contact the professor the Mayor wants to see dead.”

“That’s something that’s been bothering me. Why would the Mayor want to kill a volcanologist?”

“Volcanologist?” Rowan asked, suddenly very interested.

“Yes. He is a visiting professor at UC Sunnydale. I saw a recent article about him in the papers. It seems he and his team found a gigantic carcass underneath the rubble of a volcanic eruption in Hawai’i, which he believes may be a new type of dinosaur.”

Then it was like a fog had lifted from Rowan’s mind. ‘ _Olvikan! Living Flame! Of course._ ’

“Let’s go, Angel. Tell Giles and Gwen to start researching the Book for a demon by the name of Olvikan. Fire. We’ll be needing lots of fire.”

“Olvikan? Fire?” Angel asked, surprised by Rowan’s sudden burst of energy.

“Yes, and please don’t mention Faith’s full part in this, yet, outside her escape with the book.”

“Why?” Angel asked, not understanding the request.

“She will have to convince the Scoobies herself.”

“But what if she won’t...?”

“She will.”


	50. Chapter 50

Mayor Wilkins walked authoritatively through the hospital lobby. A nervous doctor was trailing behind him.

“She was hit by an ambulance, Sir. She has multiple hairline fractures on the tibia and femur of both her legs and deep scratches on her hands, arms and neck. These injuries were not caused by the impact. She must have hit her head on the asphalt, though. She is in a coma and there’s no way to predict...”

“Did she have anything with her when they found her?” Wilkins interrupted the doctor.

“I don’t know, Sir. Everything she had has been taken to her room.”

The doctor took lead and led them to a room with four beds. One of them, the farthest away on the left was surrounded by curtains.

“She is currently the only occupant,” the doctor said and left hurriedly. There was something deeply unnerving about the Mayor.

Wilkins didn’t waste any time pulling the curtain forcefully aside. There, in the bed, lying totally still, was Faith.

He looked quickly around for any signs of the Book she had stolen but couldn’t see any. Judging by the timeline of events, there was no indication that she had had time to visit that pompous librarian, the bitch Watcher or the other Slayer. He cursed himself briefly for not asking the doctor where the collision had taken place.

‘ _If I ate your brain now, would I find the info I seek there_?’ he thought, the idea entertaining him. ‘ _The Book is of no consequence to me anymore, but they could find inside the one piece of information that has to remain hidden. Why didn’t I rip those blasted pages out when I had the chance? And why didn’t I give you the same treatment as Allan?_ ’

A slowly diminishing part of him felt regret for the whole situation. Faith had been such a delightful addition to his dull routine, despite the impending Ascension. He realized had fallen victim to the feelings he thought were buried away a long time ago.

Pushing all that sentimental nonsense away, he walked to Faith’s bedside and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. He liked people to look representable, even in death. He pulled the curtain partially closed and then laid his hand on Faith’s face, covering both the nose and mouth.

He looked dispassionately at the comatose girl who wasn’t moving or otherwise reacting to being suffocated. He heard the door creak open behind him but paid it no mind; there was nothing anyone could do to stop him. Then, to his surprise, his hand was slowly but inexorably pulled away from Faith’s face by an unseen force. He turned angrily around but froze in shock when glowing amber eyes looked back at him in the dim room from a face not belonging to this time and place.

“Pleased to meet you, can you guess my name?” Rowan asked pleasantly in the Old Tongue.

“You!” Wilkins snarled, also in the Old Tongue. His voice was much deeper than normally and his eyes looked almost totally black. “I should have realized sooner. ‘A dark-haired boy’, then in the library...”

“Olvikan,” Rowan nodded in acknowledgement. “Or is there still enough of the Mayor in there that I should call you Richard?”

“You’re too late, Lehaïr. You cannot stop the Ascension even with the book your whore stole from me.”

“Tell me, Mr Mayor. Who gave you the original idea to seek an Ascension? Was it someone from your past? Someone dead? Someone _very_ convincing?”

(‘ _Edna Mae!_ ’) “I promised your whore I would eat her as an appetizer after my Ascension,” Wilkins growled with his face frozen in a terrible rictus. “But you I’ll save for dessert. I’ll keep you alive long enough for you to see everyone you care about being devoured, slowly.”

Rowan almost rolled his eyes. “What a pity you had to fall back to cheap melodrama. You were doing so well until now. Well, I think there remains only one more thing to be said. Abandon this folly. End it and your life while you still have a spark of humanity left. You might still acquire peace.”

For a moment the Mayor looked like he would make a lunge at Rowan, but in the end, he hissed, rushed past him and left the room.

After he was sure the Mayor was truly gone, Rowan turned back to Faith who was, according to all diagnostics, in a deep coma.

“I’ll come back for you shortly, Sunray,” he said quietly. “In the meantime, heal.”

* * *

The whole gang – Giles, Gwen, Buffy, Angel, Xander, Willow, Oz and, surprisingly, Cordelia – were in Giles’ living room when Rowan came home. He was almost smothered by enthusiastic hugs and cries of joy, and he was fairly sure there were a few less than accidental gropes thrown in – but he couldn’t tell by whom.

“Good Lord, it’s good to see that you’re alright,” Giles spoke finally, sounding hoarse. He had stayed up the whole night researching poisons and antidotes – yet again – vowing not to sleep until he had found a cure or... it was too late. “Where have you been?”

“I visited the hospital,” Rowan explained as everyone took their seats again. He could see that the Book of Ascension was lying on the table. “Faith’s there, in a coma.”

“We know,” Gwen said, feeling a deep sadness. Faith _was_ her charge, regardless of the circumstances. “Buffy and Angel told us.”

“Have you already looked inside the Book,” Rowan asked enthusiastically. “Did Angel mention...”

“He did, some,” Buffy said quietly and rose from her chair. “But there is one thing to discuss first.” She was holding the Spirit Blade in her hand. “Faith had this when I attacked her at the mansion. I know you took it from Balthazar’s lair. How did it end up in her possession?”

* * *

Rowan had always known that the Spirit Blade was a smoking gun. He had weighted carefully the pros and cons of sending it to Faith. Basically since Buffy’s visit to the City Hall, and especially since the episode with the telepathic demons, he had had a gut feeling that the two Slayers might end up in a deathmatch. Giving the bound blade to Faith and knowing her attachment to personal gifts, he had attempted to lessen the probability of the eventual encounter between Buffy and Faith turning lethal. At least that part of his plan had worked.

But now it was here and so was he. His quick mind ran though several possible scenarios, eventually discarding all others but the truth. These recurring events were starting to become irritating but once again he faced the Scoobies with a long explanation in front of him. _‘Damn the Soft Places to... a Soft Place_.’

“Please, sit down, Buffy,” he said, remaining standing himself. “I will explain. After that, you will have all the facts and I will accept whatever you decide to do with those.”

Looking sceptical, Buffy sat down with the others. The tension in the air was almost tangible.

“Faith didn’t kill the Deputy Mayor,” Rowan started. He had meant for Faith to clear herself through her own actions but events had outrun him in this regard. “He told us about the Ascension, and then the curse the Mayor had laid on him triggered and he choked to death. I staked him when he was in his final moments in an attempt to create a convincing murder scenario for the Mayor to believe. Faith volunteered to act as a spy in the Mayor’s inner circle.”

“And you never mentioned this to us, ‘cos...?” Xander said quietly, hardly believing his ears.

“To protect both you and Faith. Death by staking created a believable scenario that the Deputy Mayor had been accidentally killed as a vampire or demon. If Mr Finch had died where he did because the curse was triggered instead of a hole through his heart, the Mayor would have at least heavily suspected that his secret might be out there with the Slayers. Before he became invulnerable through a ritual called ‘Dedication’, which I think must have happened somewhere between our fight with Balthazar and Buffy’s confrontation with him at the City Hall, he most likely wouldn’t have hesitated to eliminate even the possibility of a potential threat presented by the Slayers. I also believe he staged the staking scenario to alienate the two Slayers even further and to make a co-ordinated attack against him less likely to happen.

“I already knew what an Ascension was, in the academic sense, but later found out to my shock that The Hegemon had blocked the crucial information on how to stop one in my mind. I hoped that with co-operation you all would rise to the occasion and solve the, let’s say ‘mystery’, on your own. Despite everything, I really didn’t dare hope that Faith would be able to give us the final pieces to solve the enigma, but she did. One piece of it she gave us through Willow, and now here is the final tome of the Books of Ascension.”

“Oh,” the Witch said quietly, starting to connect the pieces.

“I knew I couldn’t stay in contact with Faith, and the knife was a gift to reassure her that she wasn’t alone in this. Later Faith contacted me through Willy after the Mayor had given her instructions regarding the Box and told her to kill...,” Rowan continued.

“The heart!” Buffy suddenly burst out, interrupting Rowan’s explanation. “She tried to prevent us from getting it.”

“She most likely didn’t know why she had been told to get it,” Angel answered. “She was acting on the Mayor’s orders there as well. Remember that she didn’t know who I was and why I wanted the heart.”

“I can’t believe it!” Buffy said incredulously. “Are you actually defending her?”

“Buffy, you’re not thinking straight,” Angel said evenly.

“Are you... are you on his side in this?” Buffy asked, pointing at Rowan and trying to keep her voice even.

“What?”

“Buffy, please, we are all on the same...” Giles pleaded. He was himself somewhat shocked about Rowan’s revelations but the trust he had in his friend was still not shaken.

“No!” Buffy shouted. “Oh, my God. I should have realized this sooner. The story about Aryane and the fifth column. It all makes sense now. It’s happening again. You...”

“Don’t,” Rowan said with a hint of warning in his voice. “What they did was unspeakable.”

“How do you know!?” Buffy almost screamed. “How do you know she wasn’t working on some higher agenda as well and decided to keep you in the dark?”

The whole room fell absolutely silent at Buffy’s outburst and Rowan seemed to stagger a little. She realized that she had gone too far.

“I... I’m sorry,” she muttered. “That was uncalled for.”

“Buffy,” Gwen said quietly. “All this might be the work of some higher power, or several, with an agenda. The coincidences and inexplicable interconnections between events are simply unbelievable.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, I refuse to believe it. I’m not a pawn.” Then she raised her head to look at the Watcher in the eyes. “Did you know?”

“Not fully,” Gwen answered honestly. “I guessed some, but Rowan swore me into secrecy after the fight with Balthazar.”

Buffy clenched and unclenched her hands almost convulsively. “Get out!” she snarled at Rowan. “You too,” she spat at Angel. “And you,” she pointed at Gwen.

“Buffy, please...,” Giles tried again to defuse the situation.

“No!” Buffy shouted, once again anger blanketing rational thought. “I refuse to have these, these...,” she couldn’t quite make herself label them traitors. “...with us in this fight. I can’t trust them anymore.”

“Buffy...” Rowan tried as well, fully knowing it would be useless.

“OUT!!!”

Rowan nodded and Angel and Gwen came to stand beside him.

“So, this is how it is,” Buffy growled. “You have wanted to be the top dog all along.”

“I never had any intentions of usurping your position, Buffy,” Rowan said, shaking his head sadly. “But, free will and all that. Regardless, you can still rely on us to do our best in the fight against the Mayor even if it has to be as a second front.”

“We’ll be at the manor,” Angel told those who would be staying with Buffy.

With that the expelled trio left without another word.

* * *

Buffy had just turned around to address those left with her when she felt a powerful slap on her cheek.

“God, what a self-centred bitch you are, Summers,” she heard Cordelia’s words in her ears like the grating of chalk on chalkboard as she shook her head briefly to clear the spots in her vision.

“The door’s there, Cordelia,” Buffy spat, keeping her hand away from her face. She didn’t want to give Cordelia the satisfaction of further acknowledging her slap.

“Oh, I’ll be gone alright,” Cordelia responded. “But not before I’ve said my piece.”

“Save it. No-one’s really interested in anything you have to say anyway.”

“Cordy, maybe you should...,” Xander tried to salvage what still remained.

“Can it, Xander!” Cordelia interrupted him and looked around. “I don’t believe you, people. Have you any idea what those three you threw out plus Faith have sacrificed to get us all here where we have a real chance against the Mayor? Maybe, hmmm... everything? But, nooo... Since it wasn’t her highness herself who figured it all out, she is willing to throw it all away in a fit of pique. Good luck to you. I’d rather throw my lots in with those who still care.”

With that she was out of the door.

“I care, you skanky, two-bit...,” Buffy yelled at the door, the closing slam mercifully drowning the rest of her comment. Then she turned around and fixed those still left with an icy stare. “Anyone else?”

Four heads shook in denial in mute shock.


	51. Chapter 51

Mayor Wilkins sat down on the stool within the protective circle and took a deep breath. He faced the camera, set on a tripod just outside the circle. A man in a tailored suit nodded to him from behind the camera.

“Are we rolling?” Wilkins asked.

“Yes, Mr Mayor,” Holland Manners answered.

Wilkins cleared his throat. “Faith. As I’m recording this, you’re... sleeping and there is a possibility that you might never wake up. I’m sitting here, within an enchanted circle, to keep... the other one muted – unaware. So, this is me, Richard, talking to you, Faith.

“Let it be said out front that I don’t personally bear any ill will against you for your... betrayal. A recent encounter at the hospital has made me realize that... events may have outpaced me and there may be much deeper ones unfolding than just my... transformation.

“I have deposited certain documents and instructions with Wolfram & Hart, and this video will be part of that cache. I have no doubt that you will beat the odds and eventually awake from your... slumber. When that happens, and in the... unlikely event of my... failure, someone from W&H will contact you in the future and, well, I don’t want to spoil the surprise for you in advance.

“Before I close this, what may be my... legacy, I want to offer a confession. I tried to make you a murderer, for my own ends, something that events have revealed to me not to be in you. I’m loath to make predictions, Faith, but I still have a feeling that the path you have chosen may eventually lead you to become just that. Whether justified or not, I cannot say. But, if such a thing happens, it will be by your own choice and hopefully for a higher purpose. I have no doubt that you and your..., but I digress, being the long-winded old fool that I am.

“Finally. You’re an exceptional young woman, Faithy. Not just as a Slayer but in all other aspects as well. Reflecting back to what has happened since Allan’s death, I realize that you had... other allegiances, much deeper than the one you shared with me. I understand loyalty, believe me I do, but even more still I understand the other word starting with the same first two letters. I won’t say it, as you would never believe it, but maybe, just maybe, things will turn out as I envisioned that they would and we will see a new future together. Maybe then that, too, will turn out to be true.

“In a few minutes I will step out of this circle and things will return back normal, back to the tracks leading me to my ultimate goal. I have no more regrets and I won’t say I’m sorry. What I will do with you after my Ascension... I cannot say. I have even less free will regarding that than I thought I would have. After a certain point, things just became... become inevitable. The demon growing in me... these ancient demons are a breed of their own, Faithy. Remember that if you decide that the one you...

“Cut!”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Take it and leave. You have five minutes.”

“I understand fully, Mr Mayor. It was a pleasure doing business with you again, Sir.”

* * *

Angel, Cordelia, Rowan and Gwen sat on the couches in the manor’s main hall in silence. Cordelia was sitting with Angel, facing Rowan and Gwen on the other couch. They had not spoken to each other since leaving Giles’ even when Cordelia caught up with the three of them half-way to the mansion.

“Not to be a mood killer,” Cordelia said, shaking everyone out of their own musings. “But how do we go on from here?”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Rowan, almost by instinct. No one had acknowledged him to be the leader of their “rebel” gang, but each of them realized the qualifications he had for leadership.

“The Ascension will take place on the Graduation Day, nothing can stop that,” Rowan said. “The Mayor will become the embodiment of the demon Olvikan, one of the ancient ones, basically an Old One. Outside the exact date, I have known this much since the Deputy Mayor, Mr Finch, told me and Faith of his boss’ goal before the curse killed him. I knew that Olvikan, like Lohesh and the other ancient demons one can become through Ascension, had a weakness but The Hegemon had blocked that info in my mind. When Angel mentioned this volcanologist that Wilkins had earmarked to be killed by Faith, I finally knew. The one weakness that Olvikan has before it has become fully formed is fire, living fire.”

“But what do we have to worry about, then?” Gwen asked in confusion. “You have access to fire in its purest form if I have understood elemental magic correctly. Isn’t that enough?”

“No, Gwen,” Rowan said with a shake of his head. “The amount of fire I would have to gather and hold until the right moment would most likely burn me to crisp. It would have to channelled and for that we would need...”

“One of the Gloves of Myhnegon,” Gwen said quietly and shook her head with a small laugh. “Surprise, surprise – the left one is, according to Watcher literature, buried in an unknown crypt in Sunnydale. If one were to use that to channel through you...”

“Would be suicidal,” Angel interrupted. “The Myhnegon artefacts have minds of their own; they will become part of you, once attached. They will attempt to take control of you at every chance and can never be taken off until the wielder has outlived their usefulness, mainly by dying in their service.”

“I’ll take those odds,” Gwen said quietly. “I trust Rowan to do what needs to be done.”

“The Seal of Fire could keep me be partially shielded and grounded, but you...” Rowan started.

“Angel will do it,” Gwen said with conviction.

“I will?” Angel asked in astonishment.

“Yes.”

“Excuse me, a mere mortal here,” Cordelia piped in in annoyance. She had no idea what the three were talking about. “No such thing as TMI in this regard.”

“The Gloves of Myhnegon, and other components of the full set, are ancient artefacts meant for channelling, amplifying and focusing the raw elements to create an immense destructive force,” Gwen explained. “The Gloves are attuned to Fire, and they are the only pieces still known to exist. The lost Helmet was attuned to Spirit, the Breastplate to Earth, the Sabatons to Water and the winged Spaulders to Air. With the Gloves, sunlight can be normally used during daytime but as we know there will be an eclipse during the Ascension so we cannot use that. The idea is to have the one wielding the Glove use Rowan as a conduit to access the limitless elemental Fire resources of the universe. With the sun blocked, he would be the next most powerful source for the Glove to draw fire from.”

“The Seal is located directly underneath the library,” Rowan said. “So, you would have to be there when you activate the Glove.”

“Yes, but the main question is, how do we get the Mayor anywhere near there?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Cordelia asked in surprise. “He’s going to be the commencement speaker at the Graduation.”

* * *

“Thank you for joining us, Mr Harris,” their history teacher addressed him half-jovially, half-sarcastically, as Xander tried to inconspicuously sneak to the only free seat in the class.

Xander offered him a weak smile and a thumbs-up, and slouched in his chair.

“Look, I realize you’ve all finished your finals and you’re ready to move on,” the teacher continued. “But you have not graduated, yet. This is still a class, and everyone will participate.” He turned back to the chalkboard where he had been drawing the initial state of the Hangman game.

“Hey,” Xander heard someone whisper from his side. He turned to look, and to his surprise saw Anya sitting in the place next to him.

“Hey,” he answered with a weak smile.

“So, I was wondering...,” Anya drawled. “Maybe, if you’re free this weekend, maybe we could do some... entertaining thing.”

“Would that include you telling me about all the men you destroyed back in your vengeance days?” Xander asked sarcastically. “’Cos, pencil me in.”

Anya lowered her eyes briefly before continuing. “Well, we could do something else you like. We could... watch sports of some kind.”

“I... I don’t know,” Xander said with his attention only partly focused on what Anya was saying. There was this constant feeling in his gut that he wouldn’t be getting out of the school alive. He fully believed he had been lucky too many times already and his number was now up. With the recent split in their gang also weighing heavily on his mind it was getting harder and harder to concentrate on anything except the impeding Apocalypse facing them in a few days’ time.

“Men like sports,” Anya continued brightly as if revealing a great truth. “I’m sure of it.”

“Yes. Men like sports,” Xander deadpanned. “Men watch the action movie. Men eat the beef. Men enjoy to look at ze bosoms. A thousand years, Anya, and that’s all you’ve learned?”

“Hey, I’m trying, ok,” Anya said indignantly. “You don’t need to take my head off.”

“I... I’m sorry,” Xander said quietly after shaking his head a few times to clear it. “Look, I don’t even know if I’m gonna _make_ it to next weekend. Tell you what, if I survive the Ascension, then, maybe, you and I could do some sports-related...”

Looking at the absolute shock and horror on Anya’s face, he fell silent. “What?”

* * *

“Lester Worth, a world-renown volcanologist and a visiting professor of geology at UC Sunnydale,” Willow told Oz and Giles as she was browsing the internet based on the info Angel had given them. “He just recently returned from a year-long excavation in Kauai where he discovered a previously unknown dinosaur species buried inside a lava bed. There’s also a mention here of a local legend about a mythical monster called ‘Olukai’.”

“Olukai, Olukai,” Giles muttered to himself as he slowly tried to make his way through the Book of Ascension laid open on the table before him. “I wonder if...,” he remembered suddenly and sprinted to the upper level of the library.

“Something about the demon?” Oz asked.

“This ‘Olukai’; it might be a bastardization of ‘Olvikan’. I think this one book has a picture. If it’s indeed the same kind of demon the Mayor is turning into, it means he can be killed in his demon form.”

“So, we’ll only need a few million tons of burning lava,” Oz nodded. “We’re saved.”

“Well, it’s a start anyway,” Willow said sadly, thinking back on the fight that split their group.

Laying the book onto the table next to the Book of Ascension, Giles turned the pages quickly until he found a spread with one of the pages folded lengthwise, twice.

“Oh,” Willow breathed as Giles unfolded the page.

“We’re gonna need a bigger boat,” Oz said.

“No truer words have ever been spoken,” Xander said, entering the library with Anya in tow.

“Hey, what’s Evil Girl doin’ in the mix,” Willow said, unable to keep the malice out of her voice at seeing the ex-demon.

“You guys wanna know about the Ascension? Well, meet the only living person who’s ever been to one.”

“Oh, ok then,” Willow said, unable to think of anything else to say.

“So, about 800 years ago in the Koskov Valley above the Urals, there lived a sorcerer who achieved Ascension,” Anya started telling the group gathered around her. “He became the embodiment of the demon Lohesh. I was there cursing a shepherd who’d been unfaithful. His wife had wished that all his sheep...”

“Erm... could we cut back to the chase?” Giles prompted her.

“Oh, sorry. Lohesh was... it first decimated the village. Maybe three people got out, the rest were... Look, I’ve seen some horrible things, been the cause for most of them, actually, but this...”

“This... Lohesh is... was a four-winged soul killer. Am I right?” Giles interrupted, flipping through the pages of the Book of Ascension. “Of all the demons we have seen and faced...”

“You’ve never seen a demon,” Anya interrupted him in turn.

“Excuse me. Killing them professionally four years running,” Buffy said from the doors to the library.

“All the demons...,” Anya started patiently.

“All the demons that walk the earth are tainted, hybrid,” Giles said on top of her. “Remember what Rowan told us, Buffy.”

Annoyed at having been interrupted on several occasions, Anya stood up. “The Ascension means that someone becomes a pure demon. They are different.”

“Yes,” Giles muttered, with a small smile on his lips.

“Different, how?” Buffy asked.

“Well, for one they are mostly bigger, much bigger.”

“Not all of them,” Giles muttered again.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. What do you know of the demon Olvikan?” Giles asked in turn.

“Olvikan?” Anya shrieked. “Oh, no, no, no. Don’t even...,” she shook her head in denial and fell silent as Giles once again unfolded the Olukai page.

* * *

Opening the door to her apartment, Gwen froze in shock when she saw the man sitting on her couch.

“Quentin,” she breathed weakly and stepped in. Behind her the door slammed shut. Another man stepped out from where he had been hidden by the opened door. He came to stand in front of the now closed door.

“Why... I mean how did you get here?” Gwen stammered.

“We took the Concorde to JFK and the first available transcontinental from there to LAX,” Travers answered, lifting an eyebrow.

“That’s not what I meant,” Gwen said weakly and sat in a chair opposite the Head of the Council.

“I know. An incapacitated Slayer is a Class 1 issue, Gwen. Let’s just say that we have... independent processes in place to alert us if the names of certain people appear in certain data systems. I’m surprised we never received a word of this from you.”

“Quentin, please, the current events...”

“Yes, the current events,” Travers interrupted her. “I’m concerned, Gwen. Based on all written testimony I’ve seen in the reports you have sent to London, the two seem to be... how should I put it? At odds with each other.”

Gwen stayed quiet, keeping her face impassive. Since her... reformation, she and Rupert had adhered to the convention that the reports and diaries sent to the Council would be heavily sanitized. She was painfully aware of the original versions stored in the small, locked chest next to the couch on which her superior was sitting.

“Who’s your companion?” Gwen asked, playing for time and glanced at the slender man standing in front of the apartment door. The man hadn’t offered any introductions.

“Weatherby is here to assist if Ms Lehane’s condition does not show any improvement soon.”

“A cleaner!” Gwen exclaimed in dismay and stood up. “You can’t be serious! What makes you think you have the right to decide on Faith’s life?”

“Ms Lehane is still a minor and, under law, a ward of the Council as she has no known living relatives. That gives me every right I need, Gwen. We cannot afford to have the Slayer stay in a coma she might never get out of. A new one has to be activated.”

“I see,” Gwen said coldly. “’An honest division of labour: clean hands for the mastermind, clean conscience for the executioner.’” she quoted. “And you didn’t see fit to let me in on the Council’s little plan before the decision was made? I’m still a voting member, Quentin!”

“A Watcher is ineligible to vote when a Class 1 issue regarding their Slayer is on the table,” Travers reminded her patiently. “Besides, your vote wouldn’t have made any difference one way or another.”

Feeling her pulse quicken, Gwen seriously considered strangling the older man. But before she could even prepare herself for action, she saw Weatherby move his right hand under the left lapel of his jacket. She slowly retreated, raising her hands in the air in a placating gesture.

“I came to see you first, out of respect for your services,” Travers said and stood up, straightening his tie. That comment resonated with several ominous tones, both over and under. He strode to the door which Weatherby opened for him. “Don’t interfere with this, Gwen, either you or Rupert. It will only end badly for you.”

Gwen sat down heavily, her heart thundering in her chest. She knew her loyalties lay ultimately with the Council, but this...

She quickly packed the things she had come to fetch and started hurriedly back to the mansion.

* * *

“Anya, wait,” Xander called after the girl who was almost running along the corridor. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere,” Anya barked. “If there is a lunar shuttle going up anytime soon, I’m on it.”

“We need you here,” Xander said. “You might be able to help.”

“Help? Nothing is going to help. You can’t stop the Ascension, Xander. You were right the first time. The only thing any sane person can do now is run.” With that she turned as if to go but then stopped abruptly. “You could come with me,” she said quietly.

“Come with you? You mean that?” Xander asked, totally dumbfounded.

“Why not?” Anya asked in surprise. “We could just get in the car and drive and... No one would miss us. We could take turns driving... keep each other awake.” When Xander stayed silent, she continued. “You’re going to die if you stay here.”

“I guess I might,” Xander shrugged.

“When I think that something could happen to you, it feels bad inside,” Anya tried, feeling exasperated. “It’s like I might vomit.”

“Welcome to the world or romance,” Xander chuckled.

“It’s horrible,” Anya burst out, feeling close to tears. “No wonder I used to get so much work.”

“Well, I’m sorry I give you barfy feelings.”

Anya lowered her head in resignation. “Come with me,” she whispered as a last attempt.

Xander let out a long sigh. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Anya asked in surprise.

“I got friends on the line,” Xander answered with a hint of pride.

“So?”

“That humanity thing’s still a work in progress, isn’t it?” Xander asked sarcastically.

“Are you really gonna be that much help to them?” Anya raised her voice. “You’ll probably just get in the way.”

Xander raised an eyebrow. “Your stock’s plummetin’ here, sweetheart.”

“Fine!” Anya shouted, causing a few heads to turn in their direction. “You know what? I hope you die.”

Xander let out a small laugh and shook his head. With a ‘tsk’ she walked past a stunned Anya.

“Aren’t we gonna kiss?” Anya called after him. When Xander just kept on walking, she spun around and rushed out of the building.

Breathing heavily and leaning against a wall, Xander heard an unexpected voice address him from behind.

“What’s her saga?” Cordelia asked.

“Cordy,” Xander said in disbelief but felt the corners of his mouth twitch to form a relieved smile. “I’m... you know...”

“I know, me too,” Cordelia said with a sad shake of her head.

“Yeah,” Xander said awkwardly. “She was, you know, just freaking.”

“And you’re not?” Cordelia asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The Mayor’s gonna kill us all during graduation. What’s there to freak about?”

They looked at each other in uncomfortable silence for a while.

“How are you guys doing?” Xander asked finally.

“Are you going to fifth period?” Cordelia countered.

“Thought I might skip it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Cordelia nodded.

“So...?” Xander prompted as they started walking side-by-side towards the exit to the quad.

“I don’t know,” Cordelia said weakly. “Those three, they... I don’t want him to die!” she burst out feeling hot tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Who, what?” Xander asked in confusion. He knew the Ascension might result in all of them dying but the raw certainty in Cordelia’s words was heart-wrenching. “Rowan or Angel?”

“Yes.”

“So, what are they...?” Xander asked and nodded as comprehension hit him.

“Angel’s hunting for this piece of armour, a Glove or Gauntlet, that can channel fire once affixed to one’s arm. Gwen is going to be the one wearing it, using it to access some mystical fire source through Rowan. The Mayor’s going to become this demon, Olvikan, and they say its only weakness is fire, in immense amounts.”

“We know,” Xander said quietly. From a purely military point of view this kind of last stand might have made sense in this situation but these were his friends, despite the current situation. “We found about the previous time Olvikan was resurrected. It took a volcanic explosion to kill it.”

“We won’t have a chance the way things are,” Cordelia said, stopping in her tracks. “Someone needs to step in.”

“We would need a miracle,” Xander reminded her.

“Or maybe a little faith.”


	52. Chapter 52

Sir Quentin Travers was in a conference call with the Council when there was a knocking at his hotel room door.

“Just a second, McPherson,” he interrupted the man’s tedious monologue. “There’s someone at the door.”

He went to open the door and saw a non-descript young man standing in the corridor with a champagne cooler and a bottle of Dom Perignon in his hands.

“I didn’t order room service,” he said gruffly.

“Compliments of the management, Sir Quentin,” the boy said with a smile.

“Alright, take it to the sitting room.”

He went back to the phone and ended the call quickly. It took a while for him to register that he hadn’t heard the boy leave. He marched to the sitting room and the person lounging on the couch was definitely not someone on the hotel staff. Large amber eyes were looking back at him from a face the like of which he had previously only read about in old legends.

“Greetings, _Consul_. We finally meet,” said a vibrant and melodious voice. Travers was used to be in the position to give commands and expect them to be carried out, but a command given by the owner of this voice, he realized, made disobeying something inconceivable. His mouth was suddenly very dry.

“You are...,” he managed to start.

“Yes, _Consul_. I’m A’Rowane Than’Shea, _Framadar_ of the Companions of Light. You may have seen our exploits mentioned in one or two of your Council’s more forbidden tomes. Please, have a seat. We have lots to talk about.”

He sat down heavily, feeling for the first time in ages totally helpless.

* * *

“Buffy, I’m home!” Joyce called as she climbed up the stairs to the second floor. “Do you wanna go to a...” She fell silent as she saw Buffy packing a toiletry bag in the bathroom. “What are you doing?” she asked in confusion. “You’re running away again?” She followed Buffy to her own room. “And you’re taking my clothes.”

“Mom, I need you to leave town. Tonight,” Buffy said urgently.

“But I’d miss your graduation, honey,” Joyce said in total confusion now.

“Yeah, that’s sort of the idea. Look, Mom, graduation is a pointless ceremony where you sit around listening to a bunch of boring speeches till someone hands you a piece of paper that says you graduated. Which you already know, and maroon does nothing for my complexion, so don’t argue, ok?”

“Why?” Joyce asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is some terrible demon going to attack the school?”

Seeing the “duh” look on Buffy’s face, made Joyce sigh and sit down. “I see. Maybe I should have sent you to a different school after all.”

“Just promise you’ll get far away from me.”

“I’m not going to leave you face this thing. If I go, you go with me.”

“I can’t, Mom. I’m gonna fight this thing and I can’t do it and worry about you.”

“Honey, I just can’t...”

“You stay, you get me killed,” Buffy snapped, knowing this was the only way to make her mom understand. “You have to trust me on this,” she continued more softly. “Can you do that?”

Nodding quietly, Joyce started packing herself.

* * *

“So, _Consul_. I believe the business between us has been satisfactorily concluded?” Rowan asked, raising the champagne glass to his lips.

“Yes, _Framadar_. Pending a successful ending to your latest... exploit, we will clear Ms Lehane’s record, and... lay off her, as you so charmingly put it. Ms Post will be given a new position more suitable to her abilities in the headquarters. We will also... re-evaluate our relationship with Rupert and Ms Summers.”

“Re-instatement to full Watcher status with seniority – nothing less, _Consul_.”

Travers pursed his lips together and nodded. That was a cheap price to pay for what they were about to acquire. And there was always the possibility that the unfolding events would make any deal he made void.

“I will hold to my end of the bargain,” Rowan said, standing up. “You can expect to see me in London soon.”

“We’ll be waiting for your visit anxiously, _Framadar_. A British passport for ‘Rowan Shea’ will be delivered to you shortly, and a new United States one for Ms Lehane, naturally.”

Rowan nodded and drew the glamour back upon himself.

“May I ask...?” Travers asked hesitantly when Rowan was about to exit the sitting room.

“Goodbye, _Consul_.”

* * *

Rowan was again standing beside Faith’s hospital bed. After entering and closing the door behind him, he had made sure the room was empty besides Faith and himself. Only then did he drop his glamour and touched the door briefly. Until he reversed the Air-based seal, the door wouldn’t open to anyone but him. Also, no sounds from this room would be heard outside.

‘ _Alright. What goes around, comes around,_ ’ he thought. ‘ _This will hurt, A’Rowane Than’Shea._ ’

He leaned in to gently kiss the still Slayer’s brow and touched Faith carefully with Spirit.

Faith’s eyes snapped open and she took a gasping breath. “... k-killed me, B!” she stuttered, eyes still unfocused, and put her hands on her abdomen.

“You’re alive, Faith,” Rowan said quietly. “Come back and remember.”

‘ _That voice...,_ ’ Faith wondered, still disoriented, and then, suddenly, it was like a wind had blown away the confusion from her mind.

“You...,” she snarled and threw away the bed sheets. She was on her feet in an instant. She ripped away the needle still stuck in her arm and threw a wild punch at Rowan. To her surprise her fist connected solidly sending him sprawling to the floor. Rowan’s amber eyes never left hers and the look in them was filled with sadness.

“You dare to pity me, after what you did to me! I should kill you, you bastard!” she screamed and kicked him in the ribs. Rowan grunted but did nothing to defend himself.

“Did you hear me?! I trusted you with my _life_! And you took it!” she practically screeched and delivered another solid kick before retreating back to sit on the bed with her face buried in her hands. Her head was pounding; all she knew that she hated the person in front of her with all her being.

She could hear Rowan wheezing on the floor holding his chest. She lowered her hands and looked at him with daggers in her eyes.

“There’s nothing you can say that I could possibly want to hear,” she hissed when she saw him open his mouth to speak. “I’m out of here and if you try to stop me, I _will_ kill you.”

Faith found her clothes in the cabinet next to the door. She got out of her hospital clothes and put on the same tank top and jeans she had been wearing earlier. ‘ _Fuck him if he tries to ogle,_ ’ she thought while dressing herself. By the time she was finished, Rowan had gotten back to his feet and stood there with an unreadable expression on his face. She saw him briefly touch the door but otherwise he did nothing to hinder her progress. ‘ _He’s not one for melodrama, I’ll give the bastard that. B would have begged or at least squirmed,_ ’ Faith thought. She left the room without giving Rowan so much as a glance.

Getting out of the hospital proved to be no problem at all. Standing in the street in front of the building, Faith felt the cool wind calm her down and she was able to think for the first time about what her next steps should be. ‘ _Should I try to contact B? Fuck that. She ran me through with my own knife... My knife?_ He _gave me that._ ’ She ran her hand over her taut belly and felt no pain... or anything. She lifted her top and looked, but could see no wound or scar where the knife had struck. She rolled the top back down. It had a knife-sized hole just above the bellybutton. ‘ _What the...?_ ’

* * *

After Faith had exited the room, Rowan pressed the nurses’ call button and positioned himself so that he couldn’t be seen from the door. The doctor had to be out of balance for this to work. A few minutes later the door opened and a female doctor entered the room.

“Nurse?” she asked quizzically, seeing the empty room.

“Doctor?” Rowan called her quietly and stepped next to her.

The doctor almost jumped out of her skin and turned around to face him, her eyes widening in amazement. While she was still unbalanced, Rowan took her hand and touched a part of her mind with Spirit. The doctor froze in place with her mouth hanging open.

“The patient was transferred to the long-term ward earlier today,” Rowan whispered in her ear. “The paperwork is still somewhere on your desk as it’s a PITA to get it sorted out. If the nurses ask you, it shouldn’t take more than a few days, max. Also, until the transfer has gone through the bureaucracy, you don’t recommend any visits.”

It would take a few moments for the re-imaging to settle, so he drew the glamour upon himself while the Doctor was still disoriented. He sighed deeply; modifying the memories of others was such a slippery slope. Luckily, they had to be out of balance for it to work.

“Yes, Doctor?” he queried gently after seeing the woman blink a few times.

“Oh, sorry... I must be more tired than I realized. I thought I saw... My apologies, I just remembered that the patient was transferred to our long-term ward this morning. The paperwork is still unfinished so, unfortunately, it won’t be possible to see her today. You should come back tomorrow, or maybe the day after.”

“I see. Thank you, Doctor,” Rowan nodded politely.

“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t. Goodbye, Doctor,” Rowan said and exited the room, leaving the still unsteady doctor to gather her bearings.

* * *

Giles was making tea when there was a forceful knocking at his door. Quite irritated, he unlatched the door which was immediately blown open, knocking him to the floor. He saw long and slim legs clad in dark blue jeans walk purposefully past him.

“Ok, G-Man, spill. What’s the sitch?” an impatient voice demanded.

“Faith?”

* * *

Faith was pacing back and forth in Giles’ living room while the former Watcher was finalizing his interrupted tea brewing.

When Giles came back from the kitchenette, he was holding a tray with a tea pot, two cups with saucers and some chocolate cookies. His unease was evident by the rattling of the spoons.

“Faith, you are ok. That’s... that’s magnificent. Erm... what...?”

“What happened?” Faith spat out. “You tell me. How long have I been out of commission?”

“Erm... two days.”

“You know, G, now that I think about it, I’d expected you to be more... hostile with me than you appear to be. What gives?”

Giles sat down on the couch and started cleaning his glasses. “Rowan told us of his and your... deception regarding the Mayor,” he muttered without looking up.

“He did what, now?” Faith snarled at hearing the hated name. She stopped her pacing. “When?”

“After you were, ah... incapacitated,” Giles said.

“What exactly did that little shit tell you?”

“He told us you hadn’t actually killed the Deputy Mayor and that you joined the Mayor’s side at his request in order to gather information about the Ascension. He told us about the knife, the Box and the Book.”

“That motherfucker!” Faith said in an almost awed voice, her hate gaining another notch.

“Language, Faith,” Giles murmured, shaken by Faith’s vehemence for Rowan. But there was something... familiar in the way Faith acted against someone who he knew she was close to. He rose slowly from the couch and went to the bookshelf next to the stereo set. He looked at the books there briefly and then picked up a small leather-bound pocket-book with a few bookmarks between the pages.

“You wouldn’t have anything stronger than that tea, would you?” Faith asked, looking disdainfully at the tea tray.

“Yes,” Giles said and recited the short spell he found at one of the bookmarks.

Faith collapsed in the chair next to her as if suddenly deflated.

Giles sat in the chair opposite the Slayer who was staring ahead of her with unseeing eyes.

* * *

_Faith saw with her mind’s eye a gigantic grandfather clock, whose pendulum was stuck at one end of its trajectory. The pendulum looked like an enlarged version of the knife Rowan had given her. She grabbed the blade which she felt was sharper than a razor. She wasn’t overly surprised when the blade didn’t cut her hands. She tried to force it to move but it resisted all her efforts. ‘_ I hate you! I hate you! _’ she screamed soundlessly. Then another thought surfaced and she remembered being struck by an enormous force. ‘_ I’m sorry I didn’t have time to tell you I love you. _’_

_The pendulum swung, seeking equilibrium._

* * *

Faith came back to her senses with a blink and felt something _shift_. She jumped to her feet. She couldn’t breathe and her mind screamed ‘ _Rowan, no_!’ Giles must have seen her panic, since almost immediately she felt him take her into a fatherly hug.

“Relax, Faith. Breathe in, breathe out,” Giles said soothingly, rubbing her back.

Faith tensed at first but then let the ex-Watcher’s calming words wash over her and she relaxed.

Giles pushed her gently back in the chair and went to the liquor cabinet. He poured two large measures of single malt whisky.

“How do I...?” Faith started after a few minutes, waving her hand which held now an almost empty tumbler.

“Find him?” Giles helped. “He is...”

“I was actually thinking of how to approach B,” Faith admitted quietly.

“Best let me explain things to her first. I am quite positive that she’ll come around... erm, eventually, I hope.”

“Explain to me what, exactly?” Buffy asked from the door leading to the back of the apartment and, to the back door.


	53. Chapter 53

“B..., Buffy, I...,” Faith stammered and rose from the chair. She started backing slowly away.

“You wanted to explain. Explain.” Buffy said emotionlessly.

“Buffy...,” Giles said quietly but with a hint of warning in his voice.

“Stay out of this, Giles,” Buffy continued in the same even tone, slowly advancing towards Faith. She reached behind her and when her hand came back into view, she was holding the Spirit Blade in her hand. “Care to explain this, too?”

“B, I’m sor...,” Faith started haltingly.

“Apologize and I’ll beat you to death,” Buffy spat out, interrupting her.

“I don’t care,” Faith said quietly and fell to her knees in front of her sister Slayer, hugging herself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “Just tell me how to make it better.”

“Faith...,” Buffy said quietly, looking at the broken girl in front of her. She had never seen anyone, let alone Faith, look so open, so vulnerable. Then, without really knowing how, she was on her knees herself hugging Faith with tears flowing out of her eyes. “Shhh, it’s alright,” she whispered, feeling like a solid block of something frozen inside her was melting away with the tears. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Faith. I understand. God, I finally understand.”

They stayed like that for several minutes, just letting everything go. They were jerked back to reality as Giles’ door banged open and Xander and Cordelia rushed in.

“Oh, thank God,” Xander said breathlessly as he took in the scene.

“Ok,” Cordelia said in a no-nonsense voice. “Can we all now stop being idiots?”

* * *

The atmosphere in Giles’s living room was still tense, further intensified by Willow and Oz's arrival after Giles had called them. There were so many things hanging above them that no-one knew where to start. Besides, their group was still short of three members.

Faith was sitting alone on the serving counter, still unconsciously distancing herself from the Scoobies. Noticing this, Cordelia came to stand beside her, offering her a secretive grin and touching her arm briefly. The genuinely relieved smile she received in return was so full of hope that Cordelia couldn’t but hug her friend despite the underlying tension in the room. Suddenly she heard the door open and felt Faith stiffen in her embrace.

Faith felt her spine freeze as her Watcher came in through the front door followed by Rowan. Shaking herself loose from Cordelia’s embrace, she slid slowly down from the counter. There seemed to be an absolute silence in the room as Rowan’s amber eyes sought hers and held them. She wasn’t aware of having moved but suddenly she was standing in front of him.

“Bright Eyes... Rowan, I...” she started but fell silent at all the emotion shining in his large eyes.

“Sunray,” Rowan replied quietly, making Faith’s eyes open wide in shock. “You have no idea how proud I am of you.”

“Geez, go on and kiss already,” Cordelia snorted in amusement from behind Faith.

“Do you think we should?” Rowan asked, trying to keep from smiling.

“That would defo be a bad idea,” Faith almost whispered but tilted her head to the side a little.

“Most definitely,” Rowan nodded and leaned in.

Their lips touched for a brief, soft kiss. It was a promise, a tentative one at that, both of them knowing there were so many things to be sorted out before anything else could take place. Maybe nothing would, eventually, but in the here and now they had closed a circle that started one evening in an alley behind a Demon Lord’s lair.

“Look, we are far from ok,” Faith said quietly but her insides were doing backflips. “There is so much...”

“I know,” Rowan said. “For now, let’s just be Scoobies together.”

“I’m not...” Faith shook her head.

“Of course you are, Faith,” Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m sorry... see, now it’s me apologizing. I’m sorry if we... if I’ve ever let you think otherwise, but you definitely are one.”

“You have my vote,” Xander said and hugged the stunned brunette. Then he whispered in her ear. “There’s still the small matter of the motel room to sort out, but..., yeah.”

Willow joined her best friends somewhat hesitantly. “I abstain. It’s personal, I know. But I’m not gonna go ‘grrr, argh’ on you, Faith. Maybe with time...”

“With time,” Faith whispered, clearly moved. Then she turned to Rowan. “What about you, Bright Eyes?”

Rowan gave Faith a cocky grin. “You really think they’d let me decide on something this profound? Let’s face it. We’ll be the green ones for a long time to come.”

Giles watched the scene unfolding in his living room with a disbelieving look on his face. He shook his head occasionally. He couldn’t have been more proud if they were all his own children – Rowan included.

* * *

Looking at the goofy grin on Rupert’s face, Gwen felt it to be her duty to bring order to the situation. As heart-warming as the re-acquaintance they had witnessed was, they still had an Apocalypse to stop. Angel had still not arrived with the Glove but since the vampire was more or less up-to-date with current events, they could afford to start without him.

“Please, everyone,” she said loudly and knocked on the table. “You have no idea how happy this reunion makes me but now I think it’s time we brought everyone up to speed. I feel we have all the information we need to stop the Ascension but it’s disjointed and distributed unequally among those of us here. Since I already started, I might as well continue. To begin with, I’m sorry about my part in the events that led to the brief breach of trust between us. After the battle with Balthazar, Rowan and I...”

* * *

Faith was again sitting on the serving counter listening to Giles’ long-winded description on something which sounded like ‘Olukai’. Without her noticing it, Rowan had stepped inside the kitchenette and was now leaning on his crossed arms against the counter next to her. She found herself fighting against the unfamiliar desire to run her fingers through his hair. ‘ _Want? Sure. Take? Hmmm...,_ ’ an inner voice was debating in her head.

“It was you at the airport,” she whispered quietly enough for only Rowan to hear.

“Yes, I got your message,” Rowan whispered back.

“You shot me.”

“That I did.”

“So, me kicking you in the hospital was entirely justified.”

“There’s the small matter of you decking me at the prom.”

“You let me!” Faith protested.

“Then I guess we’re even.”

“Not even close,” Faith muttered so quietly that not even Rowan could pick it up. She was thinking of a cold crypt floor, a brief dance of violence at the prom and the big ‘T’.

Trust. She could hardly even admit it to herself, but the one next to her... she would trust him, unconditionally, whenever and wherever he might require that of her. Oh, there were lots of things she wasn’t ready to admit even to herself. A grandfather clock with a knife as the pendulum, a song, a word... _Sunray_.

* * *

Buffy was outwardly calm as she listened to Rowan’s account of the recent events but inside her emotions were in turmoil. So much had happened emotions-wise since she and Angel broke up. She realized it would take time until a full reconciliation with those she had dismissed could take place. The sweet little meeting between Faith and Rowan was also something that was causing her insides feel both warm and cold at the same time. There was happiness and there was a sense of loss as well, augmented by the recent ending to her own relationship.

As if reading her thoughts, Willow suddenly whispered to her. “Do you think they’ll be happy?”

“It’s a match made in heaven... or possibly hell if I ever saw one,” Buffy whispered back. “They just seem to... click. Hindsight is always 20/20, but I think this has been coming on for a long time.”

“What about you, Buffy?” Willow asked.

“What about me?” Buffy asked back, trying to sound surprised at the question.

“Aren’t you even a little bit, well, jealous?”

She realized Willow hadn’t specified which one of those two she should be jealous about.

“Nah,” she shook her head. “Been there, done that, worn the ‘I’m dating a demon’ t-shirt. Next time it will be something... normal.”

“I don’t think it will ever be normal with us again,” Willow shook her head. “I mean, look. You and a vampire, me and a werewolf, Xander being practically a demon magnet and now those two.”

* * *

Angel arrived carrying a wrapped-up package just as Giles had called a break after they managed to cover most of the past events to the satisfaction of everyone present. While everyone was preoccupied with the hideously gruesome Glove of Myhnegon, Gwen took the opportunity to approach Faith. The Slayer looked at her warily but not openly hostilely as she came to stand next to the brunette, a few feet away.

“Faith,” she addressed the Slayer.

“What do you want?” Faith answered, looking away.

“I failed you,” Gwen confessed simply. “I don’t dare hope you could ever trust me again like a Slayer should trust her Watcher. But know this; after the battle with Balthazar, Rowan asked me to trust him regarding you. That I did, implicitly. So, maybe, once this is all over, we might be able to make a fresh start. I’m not the same cold-hearted bitch, or Bitcher, as I’ve heard you so succinctly put it, as I was before.” She managed a quiet laugh at the Slayer’s astonished but guilty look at her words. “I know you have a fondness for nicknames, Faith. Maybe that one isn’t quite what I would have wished for but I cannot fault you for it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Faith said dismissively but Gwen was sure she could see a slight evidence of a dimple in the Slayer's profile.

“So, Faith. This might sound like a cliché but I will be there for you whenever you need me. However, as things stand at the moment, I fully understand if you’d rather rely on Rupert when you require anything, ahem... Watcher-y.”

Faith didn’t say anything, just nodded her head briefly. Just as Gwen was turning away, she heard Faith mutter, “Bitcher”. The tone was light, though, as if tasting the word. Smiling to herself, Gwen returned back to where Rupert, Rowan and Angel were examining the Glove.

* * *

Deciding she needed some fresh air, Faith went quietly to the back of the apartment ( _‘His room!’_ ) and through there to the back yard. She was surprised to find Buffy sitting at a garden table with a bottle of water in her hand. She had not noticed the blonde leave the apartment.

“B, I...,” she said hesitantly. “I didn’t know you were here. I’ll come back later...”

“Don’t be daft, Faith,” Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. “There’s room enough for two.”

Faith sat down in the opposite chair somewhat gingerly. They might be ok now, but it would still take them a while to mend old wounds and find their mutual friendship again.

“Have I already told you how sorry I’m about the deception with the Mayor?” Faith burst out, surprising herself.

“Ooo, let me check,” Buffy drawled with her best dumb blonde look on her face and appeared to count with her fingers. “Twenty-seven times by my last count.” Buffy said laughing, remembering Faith’s hastily told recollection of the events from her point of view. “Have I told you how sorry I’m about the knife-not-in-the-belly thingy?”

“Lost count a few times back,” Faith grinned.

There was a long silence, not entirely uncomfortable.

“To tell the truth, I’m all mixed up about him,” Buffy said slyly, not having to specify who she meant.

“Me too,” Faith said almost absent-mindedly, not really paying full attention to Buffy’s words. A vision of the pendulum flashed suddenly in her mind. She quickly suppressed the... more troublesome thoughts related to that episode. “Dunno if I do or don’t want to... you know. It’s like I don’t know whether to kiss or kill him,” Faith mused almost to herself.

“Probably both.” Buffy smirked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Faith demanded, blinking a few times.

“Oh, come on! You’re head over heels for him.”

“Am not!” Faith said indignantly but a faint, involuntary blush was visible on her cheeks.

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

But I thought you would...?” Faith began after a while.

“Honestly, Faith, sometimes you’re so dense I want to scream,” Buffy interrupted her. “He’s everything I girl could hope for, but we are just not... compatible.”

“Run that by me again, B. I think I lost you a few reels back.” Faith said in surprise.

“Giles explained it to me in a way that I could understand. _You_ are the true Slayer now. For some weird reason I’ve been allowed to hold onto the power but not the _spirit_.”

“So?”

“Everything he did, was for _you_. He took risks, he even risked his own and your lives, but each decision had the potential to bring vast benefits. He’s lost almost everything and everyone he’s ever had fighting The Hegemon, and he was willing to sacrifice himself for you. And I just feel that the whole arrow-in-the-shoulder episode, hell, maybe even the whole Mayor episode, was choreographed by... someone, or maybe thing, just for your benefit. Think about it. You chose him over Wilkins at that exact moment the arrow struck.”

Faith listened quietly to Buffy’s uncharacteristically insightful monologue. The truth was, she didn’t know what she wanted as it came to him. She had never been _really_ interested in boys, except what was below their waistline and that was basically single-serving only. “Get some and get gone”. That had always been her _modus operandi_. Reciprocally, all boys seemed to think of her the same way. “Wham, bam, thank you ma’am”.

She shuddered at the thought of subjecting herself and Rowan to that kind of treatment. Maybe that was the whole problem; she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what kind of a relationship she wanted, if any. She knew that attachments only led to more hurt. Trust was also something that she wasn’t used to. And... love? Does not compute. She looked down at her hands resting on her lap. Then, maybe for the first time, she decided to really confide in her sister Slayer.

“He is way over my league, anyway,” she muttered. “Different sports, even. I’m just a broke and broken gal from Southie who was raised by a junkie mother and who never knew her father. And what is he by comparison? _A fucking elf prince!_ ” There was deep bitterness and a hint of resignation in her voice as she said this.

She was totally stunned when Buffy leaned in and gently touched her cheek.

“You are much, much more than that, Faith. And he saw it immediately, even when we others didn’t. We have treated you badly and for that I’m also truly, truly sorry,” Buffy said quietly while caressing Faith’s beautiful but sad face.

“Thanks, B,” Faith said quietly, her simple words belying the depth of feeling behind them.

With that Buffy smiled and stood up, heading back to the door. Just as she was stepping inside, she stopped.

“Faith. I... I know you’ve harboured some... desires for me, and...”

Faith almost panicked at the other Slayer’s words. “B, I’m sorry. I promise...”

“I’m not rebuffing you, Faith,” Buffy interrupted her quietly. “I just want you to know that it’s ok. I... I don’t feel the same way, but...”

Despite all the recent developments, Faith felt her heart drop to somewhere close to her knees. She hadn’t expected this.

“... but,” Buffy continued. “I... I’m not entirely against some displays of affection. You’re my sister Slayer, Faith, and I kinda love you like that, like a... sibling. We are the Chosen Two and have this connection which is amazing and I’d like to explore the limits of it more with you if we ever get the chance. That’s what I had... in my mind... to say... to you,” she finally started babbling now that she had run out of things to say. She took a step inside but halted as Faith called quietly after her.

“B, I...”

“I know.”

* * *

Faith stayed in the back yard for several minutes after Buffy had gone inside, feeling a sort of... blissful emptiness. When she finally decided to get back indoors herself, she was surprised to find Rowan in his room standing in front of a chest of drawers.

“Sunray,” he greeted her. “Come have a look.”

“My... mom used to call me ‘Firecracker’,” Faith said quietly as she came to stand beside Rowan. On top of the drawers stood a simple sword stand with a sheathed _katana_ resting on it. “Since then no one’s had a nickname for me; and ‘F’ doesn’t count. Then you came up with...”

“‘Sunray’? Don’t you like it?”

“I... I... When you sang that song at my bir... the party and then Mrs S... I... shit...,” Faith stammered, her over-stimulated emotions finally starting to get to her.

“I understand. Then, again, you came up with ‘Bright Eyes’. That took me back for a few seconds, but then I realized.”

“What?”

“You instantly came up with a ‘cool’ nickname despite being initially annoyed at Buffy for being so familiar with me. I guess it was then that I... mmmppppf...”

“Get a room!” Cordelia shouted from the living room.

* * *

Faith was in love. Whatever she had been thinking previously, there was no doubt about it. The sword was an absolutely astonishing piece of craftmanship and art. Ok, her dream sword was still a Hattori blade but this one-of-a-kind Howard Clark was very much a close second. The polishing and mounting done by Ted Tenold at Legacy Arts was first rate and the end result was simply magnificent. In her opinion it was worth every penny of the $10,000 Rowan had paid for it and then some.

“You got this with the money you looted from Balthazar’s lair?” Faith asked as she tried a few drawing techniques.

“Yes, that box over there contained almost $18,000 in gold,” Rowan said from where he was sitting on his bed, indicating the silvery strongbox currently occupying the top shelf of the bookshelf on the opposite wall from the drawers. “I offered the rest to Rupert in compensation for everything he had done for me. The knife’s from there, too.”

Faith stopped for a second, acutely feeling the knife in question in the small of her back. She had gotten it back from Buffy without any ill feelings. “Do... do you want it back?” she asked hesitantly.

“No,” Rowan shook his head. “Keep it as a reminder of how little it took to almost tear us apart. You might want to borrow it to me for a while, though. The knife could do with a slight... re-binding.”

Faith laid the sword reverently back onto the stand with a wistful sigh. What she didn’t know was that inside the bottom drawer was the $12,500 in cash Rowan had ransomed from the courier transporting the Box of Gavrok and earmarked for getting her a sword of her own choice if they were still alive after the Ascension.

She was surprised by how easy it was just to _be_ with Rowan; she couldn’t remember if it had been quite like that BF, or Before Finch. He was sitting on his bed, looking perfectly relaxed, and there was no... well, maybe some, sexual tension in the air. She had thought there might be awkwardness and maybe mixed signals involved, but then she realized that she had totally forgotten she was not dealing with a fumbling college boy. That realization led to another revelation. ‘ _He actually likes me._ ’

That was totally alien territory to her as far as boys were concerned.

* * *

The night’s proceedings eventually winded down and everyone left Giles’ quietly but with a light heart despite of what was awaiting them the next day. Each felt that they had gone through a kind of purgatory where old sins were washed away and any excess baggage was left behind. Some of them knew that the last night before a big battle tended to be like that. Emotions ran high and the will to live was felt stronger than ever.

Gwen and Faith left together as did Buffy and Angel. The vampire had told them he would be spending the night in the school library in order to be ready at first light. He took the Glove with him and Buffy provided additional security for the transport. After everyone was gone, Giles and Rowan just bid good night to each other and went to get some much-needed sleep.

On their way back home Faith and her Watcher stayed quiet, neither wanting to break the fragile peace between them with ill-advised words. Finally back at her own place, Faith’s was almost overwhelmed to find all her precious belongings exactly as she had left them. The place itself had been kept clean and well-aired. It felt like coming home.

The gift card, the CD player, her kitchen knives – all were there like she only left the apartment earlier that day. The knife she laid reverently on her bedside table. She initially thought that there was no way she would be able to sleep with all the stuff swirling inside her head. But she snuffed out like a candle immediately as her head hit the pillow.

Oz and Willow spent the night together, mostly silent, letting instinct and desire guide them. They realized that the night might be the last one for either or both of them, so there was an unspoken urgency, a heightening of senses as they melded into each other.


	54. Chapter 54

“So, that’s the revised, overall plan,” Gwen told the gathered gang in the library the next morning. “All cards are on the table. Any thoughts? Are we crazy?”

“Well, crazy is a such strong word,” Willow said helpfully.

“Let’s not rule it out, though,” Giles muttered, basically to himself. Their plan was based on the idea the previously expelled quartet had come up with and none of the others could think of anything close to matching it in both creative audacity and sheer lunacy.

“You don’t think it could be done, Rupert?” Gwen asked. They had decided that everyone gathered in the library would have an equal say in the matters, regardless of the eventual part they would play in executing the plan.

“I didn’t say that,” Giles said defensively. “I might, though, but not quite yet.”

“I personally don’t think it’s possible to come up with a crazier plan,” Cordelia said. “And I was there when it was first cooked up.”

“We could attack the Mayor with hummus,” Oz deadpanned in his usual laconic way.

“I stand corrected,” Cordelia said, truly impressed by Oz’s way with words.

“Just keeping things in perspective,” Oz shrugged.

“Buffy?” Gwen prompted the blonde Slayer who had stayed quiet so far, and sat down herself. They had earlier agreed that Buffy would be co-ordinating the overall strategy. The Slayer had initially been hesitant but after both Faith and Rowan had given her their full support, she agreed to act as the “general”. Lots depended on how their “ground forces” performed on the quad during the actual graduation ceremony and the initial stages of the Ascension. Buffy, Willow, Xander, Oz and Cordelia would be there, of course, but, as a Slayer, Buffy would be the one calling the shots. Faith had a special mission, one originally missing from the plan and one she was eager to undertake. She knew she wasn’t a natural leader, like Buffy and Rowan, so she unreservedly acknowledged her sister Slayer’s position of commanding the troops in the field.

“I’m gonna need every single one of you on board,” Buffy said, standing up. “Angel, Gwen, Rowan – your tasks are pretty much as you have laid them out, and you’re sort of the core around which our other actions revolve. There isn’t really anything I can tell you that you already don’t know. You thought this up and I fully trust you to do your best.”

“We won’t let you down,” Rowan said from his usual seat on the mezzanine stairs. This time though, he wasn’t alone as Faith was sitting next to him as if she had always belonged there.

“Xander,” Buffy addressed the next Scooby. “You’re sort of a key figure here as well.”

“Right,” Xander nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“We need your military knowledge to create a battle plan for those of us on the quad.”

“Oooh, can I plan for a rocket launcher?” Xander asked enthusiastically.

“Rocket launcher is not going to get it done, Xander,” Rowan commented with a wink. “Unless you count the Glove as one. Last time it took a volcano’s worth of fire to bring Olvikan down. Are you volunteering?”

“Uh, heh, that’s fine,” Xander back-pedalled. “You guys have obviously thought of everything as it comes to firepower.”

“Erm, Buffy,” Giles said hesitantly. “All this seems to be rather dependent on your being able to control the Mayor.”

“We’ll play on his weakness,” Buffy said.

“Um, weakness?”

“Me,” Faith spoke up.

* * *

“Ok, folks, this is how it’s going to lay out,” Wilkins addressed the group of vampires in his office. “The transformation should begin at exactly 3:28 pm as I’ll be just finishing my speech. They’ll try to run, of course, and that’s when I need you boys in flanking position.”

“But, Sir, the Sun...,” one of the vampires began.

“Not a problem,” Wilkins interrupted him and recited. “’Darkness will follow. The day becomes night.’”

“The eclipse!” the same vampire realized with a toothy grin.

“And then some. Standard procedure for an Ascension.”

* * *

“’... The day becomes night.’,” Gwen read from the Book of Ascension. “The totality of the eclipse will last only 2 ½ minutes but according to the information Willow’s been able to gather about the 1723 eclipse, the darkness lasted much longer.”

“That’s right,” Rowan said. “It will last until the initial transformation stage is over.”

“And how long will that take?” Giles asked. “I seem to recall seeing something about that in the Book...”

“Anywhere up to half-an-hour,” Rowan said.

“That puts me back in the game,” Angel said eagerly. They had a suspicion that the structural integrity of the school might not be enough to withstand a demon of Olvikan’s magnitude, and sunlight in the library would be detrimental to Angel’s part in the plan.

“Yeah, it does,” Buffy assured.

* * *

“You will come up through the sewers here,” Wilkins said pointing at the ground plan of Sunnydale High spread open on his desk. “The important thing is containment. I’ll need to feed. It’ll be crucial in the initial stages to sustain the change. And what does that mean? No snacking. Kill. Don’t feed.”

* * *

“How are we with ‘Project Inferno’?” Buffy asked Rowan and Gwen for a final check-up.

“Mike will let me in the service tunnel an hour before the graduation ceremony starts, so I will be there at the Seal well in advance,” Rowan explained. “The totality of the eclipse starts at 15:28 which will be my cue. It should take approximately five minutes for you on the ground to goad Olvikan into the library.”

“Angel and I will be here in the library at 15:15 and I will don the Glove at 15:25,” Gwen recited her part. “Angel will both guard me and keep me... grounded in case the Glove’s... lure threatens to become too strong. At that point the eclipse is already nearing its totality so I should be able to gradually feel Rowan through it as the Sun’s power weakens.”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” Angel promised.

* * *

“Remember – fast and brutal,” Wilkins gave his dark troops their final instructions as they started to make their way out of his office. “It’s gonna be a new world come nightfall. Don’t want to weaken now.”

* * *

“Ok, guys, start reaching out,” Buffy instructed Xander, Cordelia, Willow and Oz. “Giles, wea...,” she continued and then smiled slightly and looked at Rowan out of the corner of her eyes. “Giles, tools, tools, tools,” she corrected herself.

* * *

Rowan was helping Giles sort out the tools of their trade when he felt a soft touch on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Faith said quietly.

“Hey,” Rowan answered back with a small smile that made Faith’s insides flutter.

Giles took one look at them and understood immediately. “I think I have some tea brewing in the office,” he muttered and excused himself.

“You know I’ve never been one with words,” Faith started hesitantly once they were alone in the cage. “But today... if anything should happen...”

“Nothing will happen to you, Sunray...”

Faith couldn’t take it anymore. She practically jumped at Rowan like she had done that one time at the Bronze. This time she didn’t hold back. “You...” (kiss) “Stupid...” (kiss) “Dumb shit...” (kiss) “Goddamn...” (kiss) “Motherfucker...” (kiss). “Can’t you get it through your thick skull that it’s not me I’m worried about.”

“Shhh, Sunray,” Rowan said gently and put a finger on her lips. “Remember The Hegemon’s words.”

That made Faith freeze in shock and she took a step back. “What?”

“The Slayer line is still intact. It won’t be today that I’ll be witnessing its end.”

Faith stood still, absolutely dumb-founded. She herself had challenged Rowan about the Slayer prophecy and then totally forgotten about it.

“There’s something I need to tell you, though, Sunray,” Rowan said and sat down on the table meant for the box for returned books. “While you were in the coma, I briefly entertained the idea of writing a letter to you and give it to Giles to deliver once you recovered. Events eventually outpaced me, but I’m glad I have this little opportunity to say the things I’d planned to write directly to you.”

“Yeah?” Faith asked hesitantly and crossed her arms over her chest.

“The Council found out about your admittance to the hospital and decided that you’d have to be terminated and a new Slayer called. This much you know already. What you don’t know is that I took it upon myself to... persuade Quentin Travers to take the Council off your back, for good. He will see to it that your record with the authorities, both local and federal, is wiped clean. You will receive a new US passport in the near future, and in the unlikely event of me not making it, the sword, the box and everything inside the bottom drawer of the chest will be yours.”

When Faith stayed quiet, Rowan continued. “You’re free of all shackles binding you if you so wish. You are, for the present, the real Chosen One – the Slayer line, unbroken. Never forget that, Sunray, even if the Council appears to have done so. I cannot but pity them for their loss.”

“That’s... that’s... there’s a flip side, isn’t there?” Faith stammered, still reeling from shock at Rowan’s words.

“I’m going to London after the fight,” Rowan said simply. “My side of the bargain is to put myself at the Council’s disposal for an undetermined period.”

“You’re... leaving?” Faith almost choked. She left the unsaid “me” hanging in the air.

“I’m not leaving you,” Rowan said softly and slid down from the table. He circled his arms around Faith and pulled her close. Faith just stood there with her arms still crossed. She was unable to move – either to reciprocate or push Rowan away.

“You’re still very young, Sunray, though in some aspects mature beyond your years,” Rowan continued. “A separation like this may seem to you as something final, especially now that we have just found each other. My years have mellowed me somewhat and, as you know, I have a slightly different outlook on time... occasionally. I _will_ come back to Sunnydale; that I promise.”

Faith was on the verge of just slipping back to her usual way of dealing with uncomfortable situations and tell Rowan to just fucking go and stay gone. She had dared to lower her walls and now this happened once again. She was used to being abandoned, and burying away her feelings was almost a second nature to her. But suddenly she realized that this was not it; she wasn’t being abandoned, not at all. ‘ _This is letting go,_ ’ she thought with a sudden insight and closed her eyes. ‘ _The final lesson a child has to learn._ ’ She raised her arms and circled them around Rowan’s waist.

“Idiot,” she whispered against his shoulder, not specifying which one of them she meant... or maybe both.

* * *

Mayor Wilkins was sitting in his leather chair for what was most likely the last time ever. Looking at the clock ticking away the seconds to the realization of his destiny, he briefly amused himself with the thought how a century of preparation would eventually be over in just a few more hours. ‘ _A little over 876,500 hours in a century, and it all boils down to this,_ ’ he chuckled to himself.

Both the Slayer and the Lehaïr were still out there, suspiciously quiet. Maybe they’d given up facing the hopelessness of stopping the Ascension with Faith decidedly out of commission in the long-term ward of Sunnydale General.

That thought was certainly entertaining, but he knew they wouldn’t give up just like that. He could almost visualize them, sitting around the large library table trying desperately to come up with a plan, bickering and yelling at each other in growing desperation. They still had the Book but the more he thought about the possible threat it presented, the more confident he became that his fears had been for nothing. There was no way they would be able to summon enough power to stop him, even in the crucial first stages of the transformation.

Anyway, today he would finally get back with interest all he had given to Sunnydale since its founding. It was his city; one he had given birth to and nurtured since its infancy. Purposefully built on a Hellmouth to slowly bind its inhabitants to darkness – an endless feedback loop, generation after generation. And, today, that evolution would reach its peak as all that cultivated negative energy would become his, making him something even the authors of the Books of Ascension could not have anticipated. The Sun was still quite a distance away from being eclipsed but inside him he was already acutely aware of the impending darkness.

Today, Sunnydale, tomorrow the world... and, hey, maybe the old saying will turn out to be true and the world really isn't enough.


	55. Chapter 55

Rowan met Mike at the door leading to the service tunnel underneath the school at 14:20. The corridors were deserted as Seniors were preparing for their graduation and the lower classes had already left the school for Summer. As Rowan approached the janitor, he saw Mike smile widely but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was sadness in them and maybe a hint of resignation.

“Hi, Mike,” Rowan greeted him. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” Mike answered honestly. “I have this feeling that once I open this door, that’ll be it. You’re going to vanish just as mysteriously as you arrived.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Mike, and say everything is going to be alright,” Rowan said and laid a gentle hand on Mike’s shoulder. “What we are doing is probably as dangerous as it’s ever going to get.”

“Is there anything more that I could do?” Mike asked hesitantly.

“You want to join the fight?”

“Yeah, anything...” Mike started, then blushed, “... for you.”

“Alright, Mike. After this, go find the school librarian, Rupert Giles. Tell him you want to participate and that I sent you.”

“Could I... could I come with you instead?” Mike asked, despite knowing the dangers involved.

“No, Mike,” Rowan shook his head, remembering almost identical words spoken to him in an almost identical situation by Whistler before he and Aurora initiated their fateful strike. “What I’m going to do... is something you cannot help me with. It has to be just me.” Back then his response had been the same almost word-for-word.

Mike just nodded sadly and unlocked the door. Looking down at the dark stairs leading into the depths of the school, he felt at a loss. “I...,” he managed to start before he was turned around by a determined hand and kissed for all it was worth. Returning the kiss eagerly, a sudden recollection hit his mind. ‘ _Just a touch, maybe he won’t mind._ ’ He hesitantly put his arms around Rowan’s slim waist and little by little slid his hands lower. Then, after feeling no objection from Rowan, he decided to be bold and slid his hands into the back pockets of Rowan’s jeans. ‘ _This is probably as close to heaven as I’m ever gonna get,_ ’ Mike thought, feeling both extreme happiness and deep sadness.

They separated after a minute and, without another word, Rowan started down the stairs. Just as he was disappearing in the dimness below, Mike called after him.

“This world’s gonna be too ugly without you in it. You’ll have to make it.”

Rowan stopped for a second and, without turning around, nodded his head once. Then he continued his descend.

* * *

_Flashback_

“That is an order, Paygan!” A’Rowane’s voice rang like a bell.

“With all due respect, Sir,” Whistler responded evenly. “In the present circumstances a punishment for disobeying a direct order doesn’t strike me as anything to be overly concerned about.”

“He’s right, Rowan,” Aurora stated in a no-nonsense voice.

“Aurora!” A’Rowane burst out. “Are you deliberately trying to undermine my authority?”

“No, darling,” came the amused reply. “You’re doing an admirable job all by yourself.”

“Fine!” A’Rowane exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “You can accompany us to the Zone but that’s it. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” Whistler nodded but his voice still carried a hint of disapproval.

“Alright, then. Aurora, take us there.”

* * *

“Are we here?” Whistler asked in surprise. “It doesn’t look any different from any other place.” They were in the foothills of the Central Peak. Its symmetric slopes rose majestically above them to the height of almost 4,000 paces above the plains surrounding it.

“What did you expect, Wiz?” Aurora asked smugly. “A swirling maelstrom of darkness? A stone circle? Maybe a clear-cut line in the fabric and a sign saying ‘Shifting Zone ahead, ye be warned’?”

“Something like that,” Whistler muttered.

“Aurora, a portico, please?” A’Rowane told the Sylph. “Over there, I think.”

Aurora floated to where A’Rowane indicated and then split into five smaller spheres. The spheres formed a pentagon in the air and then narrow lines of light spread out from each sphere and connected them all together, creating a pentagram inside the polygon. It was perhaps the size of A’Rowane’s outstretched arms in diameter. In the pentagram’s centre, another pentagon was formed and then a new pentagram inside that one in a continuous nesting that went on and on.

“Is that the... barrier?” Whistler asked.

“No, silly,” Aurora said, once again a single sphere. The shape she had “drawn” remained in place. “That’s just a falling notion – a marker if you wish.”

Whistler was used to having Aurora make fun of him but as “markers” went, this one was pretty amazing. It didn’t matter how he moved around it, or crouched down; it always presented the same shape to him. It didn’t seem to rotate about its axes; it just _was_ the same shape from any possible viewing point. He also tried to count the nested patterns but soon gave up. What they formed was in all respects an infinite regression.

“The Seals?” A’Rowane asked, forcing Whistler to focus on the task at hand again.

“In place,” Aurora said happily.

“Alright, I guess this is it.”

“Sir, permission to speak freely?” Whistler asked formally.

“Paygan, we are running out of time and I have a few final orders for you. But, let this one be the first. Whatever happens, you will never again have to ask permission to speak your mind to me.”

“Sir, requesting permission to come with you.” This was the third time he had made the request.

“Denied.”

“By the merciless Illyria, why?” Whistler demanded and then fell silent. “I’m sorry, Sir. I forgot...”

“What Aurora and I are going to do... is something you cannot help us with,” A’Rowane explained, leaving the Paygan’s further back-pedalling uncommented. “It has to be just us.”

“I don’t accept that, Sir. You don’t have to go at all, do you? It could be just Aurora.”

“I am going in there. I need to make sure that Aryane and the others stay there even at the cost of my own life.”

Whistler sighed deeply. When the Framadar was like this, there was no-one besides perhaps Aurora who could change his mind.

“Besides,” A’Rowane continued. “Someone needs to bear witness and that’s you.”

“Anything else, Sir?” Whistler asked in a tight voice.

“No heroics. If we... I’m not back when the Seals slide into place, you’ll make yourself scarce in this place.”

“Yes, Sir,” Whistler saluted and then hesitated. “I’ve been following you for quite a while, Framadar, and I must say it has been a privilege...”

“Dismissed, Paygan,” A’Rowane gave his final command and turned away. He and Aurora approached the pentagon together and walked through it. As far as Whistler could see, they didn’t vanish; they just... became part of the scenery. Nevertheless, they didn’t come out on the other side.

_End Flashback_

* * *

Rowan made his way down the service tunnel to the room where Mike had found him in and then further down through the cave-in to the sealed room where the Seal was located. Last time when he made such a journey he had had Aurora with him, and with each step he couldn’t but miss her unwaveringly positive approach to their otherwise grim task.

Once inside the sealed cavern, he sat down cross-legged on the Seal of Fire, or _Danzalthar Faërenchizi_ , as Aryane had named it. He touched the symbols with Fire using his own lesser key pattern and then smiled when he felt a familiar wave go through him.

* * *

_Flashback_

“Did you see the divide? We just passed it,” Aurora said brightly. “It was very weird – both infinite and not there at all at the same time.”

“Lower realm,” A’Rowane muttered. “ _Erech uchain Hegemonor mich’erain remes._ ”

“Yes, Rowan,” Aurora said and pulsed briefly. For her it was the equivalent of a nod. “A falling fifth on the ‘erain’ would get the point across better, don’t you think?” She then proceeded to intone the curse in alternating fourths and fifths, making A’Rowane nearly choke.

“Only you, my love, only you,” he whispered fondly.

“I can’t wait to see Aryane. She’ll be so surprised by the final touches I made to the Seals,” Aurora chattered happily. “It was so nice of her to give me the master keys. She told me to change the patterns immediately and not reveal the new ones to anyone, herself included. That was little odd.”

‘ _You are the key now, Aurora,_ ’ A’Rowane thought to himself. He didn’t know how much Aurora understood emotions or what had happened with Aryane. He had tried to explain but nothing seemed to have a negative effect on how the Sylph regarded his former lover.

“Show me the master key pattern of Finzechior, Aurora,” he asked as a test.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I cannot do that,” Aurora answered immediately, sounding apologetic.

“It’s alright, darling,” A'Rowane said with a smile, feeling a wave of relief. If she wouldn’t reveal that to him, no one else could get it out of her either.

“Listen, Aurora,” he continued. “I know Whistler is going to be stubborn and demand to stay. Before you activate the Seals, make sure he _shifts_. Staying in the Zone when the fissure and barrier are cut off won’t be a good idea.”

“Yes,” Aurora confirmed. “And then you and I will have all the time in the world.”

“Yes, Aurora,” A’Rowane said quietly. “All the time in the world.”

_End Flashback_

* * *

The sound of the school band starting on Elgar’s “Pomp and Circumstance” was the cue for the Seniors to start their procession to the quad. Cordelia led the long line with Xander and Buffy staying behind to give each of their fellow graduates a brief nod before joining the procession in the rear.

On the podium Principal Snyder was standing behind a lectern looking his usual sour self. Behind him sat the school board members with Mayor Wilkins in the seat of honour.

After Buffy and Xander had found their seats, the music stopped and everyone sat down. The seat next to Buffy remained empty and she looked around in slight consternation but couldn’t see Willow anywhere. Almost immediately, though, rapid footsteps approached her and the Witch sat down gasping for breath.

“What kept you?” Buffy whispered.

Willow winked at her and opened her fist. On her palm lay a small Tiger’s Eye stone.

* * *

“It’s time,” Angel said quietly.

Gwen nodded and took the Glove in her right hand. She flexed the bare fingers of her left hand for what could very well be the final time and looked at the lines on the palm, trying to fix them in her memory. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered and slid her hand inside the glove. As a woman she had no idea what it felt for a man to slide into a wet pussy but what she was feeling was perhaps the closest she would ever come to experience that. “Ohhhhh,” she moaned and fell to her knees. She didn’t have long to enjoy the sensation before there was pain. The claws circling the glove’s opening clicked one by one and embedded themselves into her flesh. But even within the pain there was ecstasy.

“Gwen, are you alright?” Angel asked anxiously.

“Y-yes,” Gwen breathed and stood up unsteadily. “T-the power... oh, my God... Rowan!”

“What? Is he alright?”

“Yes, but, dear Lord, if he has access to this... this much power, how can he keep it under control? With him I could... nothing could stop us.”

“Gwen!” Angel shouted and grabbed the Watcher by the shoulders. “Focus! Keep it together.”

“Angel,” Gwen purred. “You understand absolute power. You wielded it once, as Angelus. Don’t you crave it? With this Glove I could fix your soul, make it permanent. No more having to fear that one moment of happiness. With me you could satisfy every desire you ever had with Buffy but were denied...”

Angel didn’t react as the woman leaned in closer and brought their lips together. Angel held her tight and, mid-kiss, vamped out and bit Gwen’s lower lip. Gwen started struggling in his forceful embrace and screamed into his mouth.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” Gwen gasped when Angel eventually released her. “I’m... I’m... Oh God, it’s too much.”

“You can do it, Gwen. Focus on Rowan, feel him,” Angel almost panted. The small taste of Gwen's blood, perhaps augmented by the Glove's power, had been... intoxicating.

The clock struck 15:28.


	56. Chapter 56

“Congratulations to the class of 1999. You all proved more or less adequate,” Principal Snyder began his introduction. “This is a time of celebration, so sit still and be quiet.” He looked at the gathered Seniors daring them to challenge him. “Now, please welcome our distinguished guest speaker, Richard Wilkins III.” He started clapping initially by himself but after a stern look at the Seniors, a few of them joined him half-heartedly.

Mayor Wilkins shook Snyder’s hand briefly and then took the speaker’s lectern himself. He picked up a stack of cue cards from his inside breast pocket and coughed to clear his voice.

“Well!” he started spiritedly. “What a day this is. Special day. Today is our centennial, the 100th anniversary of the founding of Sunnydale. And I know what that means to all you kids. Not a darn thing. ‘Cause today something much more important happens. Today you all graduate from high school. Today all the pain, all the work, all the excitement is finally over. What’s a 100 years of history compared to that?”

“My God,” Buffy wondered in awe. “He actually has a whole speech prepared.”

“Man, just Ascend already,” Willow huffed.

“Evil,” both Buffy and Willow said in synch.

“... whether you like it or not,” Wilkins continued his speech. “It’s been a long road getting here for you, for Sunnydale. There’s been achievement, joy, good times. And there’s been grief. There’s been loss. Some people who should be here today, aren’t. But we are. Journey’s end.

“And what is a journey? Is it just distance travelled? Time spent? No. It’s what happens on the way. It’s the things that shape you. At the end of the journey you’re not the same. Today is about change. Graduation doesn’t just mean your circumstances change. It means you do. You ascend, to a higher level. Nothing will ever be the same.”

There was a hush in the air as the day suddenly started darkening. The eclipse.

“Nothing.” Wilkins intoned and gazed up in the sky. Then he jerked as if hit by a bullet. “Ugh!”

The Seniors started looking uneasily around but at Xander’s and Buffy’s frantic waving, remained seated.

“And so, as we look back on... gghhhh,” Wilkins attempted to continue. “... on the events that have brought us to this day... uuufff...”

“Come on, come on,” Buffy muttered and then took off her cap. It was the sign for everyone to get ready.

“... we... we must all... OH, GAAA!!!” Wilkins screamed as his knees buckled. Behind him the board members and Snyder were looking around totally bewildered.

“It has begun,” Wilkins stated and chuckled briefly. “My destiny. It’s a little sooner than I expected. I had this whole section on civic pride,” he continued, shuffling the cue cards briefly. “But I guess we’ll just skip to the big finish.”

Darkness. Totality.

* * *

Clothes ripping, flesh giving way, a dragon’s head and a scaly, snake-like body rose from the earthly remains of Richard Wilkins. Four steely claws in each of its four feet, it rose on its hind legs and roared in triumph. A dark cloud emanated from its mouth and nostrils, covering the area with an even deeper darkness. Olvikan once again walked the Earth. It was still in its infancy, maybe 30’ in length, and it was hungry. And within it a merging was happening. What remained of Richard Wilkins felt his senses stretch, thoughts became unobstructed, recollections of past lives filled his mind. He was... absorbed. He was... Olvikan.

All around him the insects called human, his soon to be nourishment, scampered around like the mindless cattle they were. Only a contingent of maroon-clad younglings seemed to retain a sense of order. From his elevated viewpoint he could see the platoon of his fanged minions closing in on those attempting to flee.

* * *

“Now!” Buffy shouted and all around her graduation gowns were thrown aside revealing an assortment of swords, axes, stakes, morning stars and crossbows.

The approaching vampires stopped suddenly as they faced an armed wall of students instead of a bunch of scared-shitless children running around like headless chicken.

“ _Get them!_ ” a powerful telepathic command was felt by all. Then the battle was on.

“Willow!” Buffy gave the Witch the sign to go ahead.

“Got it,” the Witch acknowledged and held the tiger’s eye stone aloft. She intoned a short spell and then rays of light, like laser beams, started emitting out of the stone, hitting Olvikan’s still forming scale armour and his eyes, blinding him temporarily. The demon was now maybe twice his initial size and still growing rapidly. Close to her, students with crossbows started peppering the roaring demon with bolts.

In the middle of the erupting chaos, Principal Snyder was seething. “This is simply unacceptable,” he shouted.

In the rear Xander heard Cordelia shout his name.

“Bowmen,” he gave the order. Ten cloth-wrapped arrow-tips dipped into ten bowls of oil and were ignited. “Fire!” Xander commanded. Ten arrows, ten burning vampires.

“This is not orderly,” Snyder continued his tirade. “This is not disciplined.” He turned to face the lizard that seemed to have emerged from the Mayor. “You’re on my campus, buddy. When I say I want quiet, I mean...”

Trying to adjust to the searing light beams, Olvikan became briefly irritated by the insect-like buzzing somewhere close to him. After a brief glance, he absentmindedly bent down and bit the distracting critter in half at the waist. Swallowing the top half in one gulp only managed to intensify his hunger. The bottom half of his first prey quickly followed. Now there was time to do something about the distraction...

* * *

“Willow!” Oz screamed as he saw Olvikan turn his attention to the Witch who was still sending out beams of light at the demon. He threw his axe aside and started running. He saw with total clarity the raised claw and Willow in its trajectory, unaware of the sudden danger. Jumping over the rows of chairs, he made a lunge at his girlfriend. He just managed to push her aside and felt a brief sense of relief before something extremely heavy and sharp bit deeply into his back.

“Oz, get off me,” Willow said irritably. There was still work to be done. Receiving no reply, she pushed with all her might. Oz rolled over, and then lifeless eyes were staring back at Willow. “Oz, don’t be silly,” she said in a terribly hollow voice and shook her boyfriend’s shoulder. “Get up. There’s your axe, see?” She could only gape at the pool of blood starting to spread around from underneath Oz.

* * *

Buffy watched in horror as one of the demon’s razor-sharp claws hit Oz in the back. She knew immediately it was a killing blow as Oz was slashed almost in half. “Back, fall back!” she shouted to those still facing the demon with crossbows. As she was giving these orders, a dark-clad figure walked calmly past her towards the looming demon.

“Hey, Boss!” Faith shouted at the demon, making him growl in surprise and turn his burning eyes at her. “Guess you lost. All those promises of wealth, fame and all that shit. Well, fuck that. He has given me so much more than you could ever hope to imagine. Yeah, you heard right, dickless – the _Lehaïr_. He’s mine and I’m his. And, by the way, consider this as my resignation, fucker.”

With that she turned around and ran for her life to the school entrance.

Even with full knowledge of Faith’s part in the plan, Buffy was left with her mouth hanging open.

* * *

“Second wave!” Xander gave the order for the reserves to engage. He had seen the brief weakening in the resistance so now was the time for the big push. There were casualties on both sides, only on theirs they remained in the field. He watched impassively as Harmony was grabbed by a vampire who sank his teeth into her neck. Now was not the time to let personal feelings affect his judgement. Despite that, he allowed himself a small grin when he saw Cordelia stake a vampire, mostly by accident. Somewhere behind him Olvikan was screeching but he paid it no mind. Faith, Angel, Gwen and Rowan would handle that one. He had a job of his own to do.

* * *

“Gwen!” Angel warned her as he heard the first sounds of incoming destruction.

“ _Tar chugam a chumhacht Myhnegon!_ ” Gwen recited, pointing the Glove straight down. The Glove turned slowly red, then white until it shone with a brightness that was painful to the eyes.

Angel kept his eyes firmly on the doors to the library, occasionally flicking his gaze to the windows on the mezzanine level. ‘ _Fifteen steps, twenty max; three seconds, four tops,_ ’ he kept repeating in his mind. Then the doors burst open and Faith ran in like all the demons of hell were at her tails.

Grabbing the Slayer around the waist Angel started running for the upper level, shielding Faith with his body. Behind them he heard Gwen roar in a terrible voice.

“TAR FRIM!!!”

Then he jumped through the window with Faith still in his embrace.

* * *

“Gwen!” Rowan gasped as he felt a violent pull in his mind. He was powerless to stop it, being so close to so much concentrated fire. He felt a sickly _widening_ somewhere inside as if someone was trying to stretch his heart to twice its size. “Faith!” he screamed, making the walls echo the word back and forth. He fell to his back on the cold Seal, ending up spread-eagled on the cold surface.

“Aurora,” he whispered quietly as tears started flowing out of his suddenly shining eyes. They felt like liquid fire.

* * *

_Flashback_

He was losing, and he was losing fast. Air, Earth, Fire and Water battered his shields and Spirit was trying to worm around his defences into his mind. He could hear Aurora’s anxious voice behind him at the barrier. He knew the barrier was close but it might as well have been on the other side of the Lower realm. In the distance Aryane, Mas’Mughan, Arteshtaran, Sak’Anshah and a host of others were closing in on him slowly but inexorably.

“Aurora,” he whispered weakly, moving backwards one step at a time, each of which seemed to take an eternity. Suddenly the whole fissure rang with Aurora’s unrestrained voice.

“ARYANE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! HELP HIM!!!”

He felt the assault cease for the blink of an eye but it was enough for him. He flashed around, his back now towards the enemy. He had only one chance.

“Aurora! _SHAFSHELAR!!!_ ” he screamed at the top of his lungs and dashed forward.

The Seals slammed into place and A’Rowane fell into darkness.

_End Flashback_

* * *

Buffy had just reached the library window outside when Angel dived through it with Faith in his arms propelled by a huge explosion. Behind them the rest of the library windows and part of the wall were blasted apart and an earth-shaking roar emerged from the open aperture. Angel’s leather coat was peppered with a burst of razor-sharp slivers of glass and mortar that would have at least severely injured a human. The vampire let go of the Slayer mid-air and prepared to roll on landing. It meant that Faith hit Buffy like a missile and they fell to the grass in a heap.

Buffy was still gathering her bearings when her lips were seized in a forceful kiss.

“Hey, B,” she heard Faith’s hoarse voice on top of her. “If you wanted to get horizontal with me, you only had to ask.”

Buffy could only laugh and cry in relief as she hugged her sister Slayer tight enough to have broken ribs on a normal person.

* * *

It was not working. Inside the library Gwen and Olvikan were connected by a liquid bridge of white fire, locked in a standoff. To Gwen’s horror it appeared they had seriously underestimated the power needed to vanquish the demon. But how could it be? They had been so sure. The entry in the book had been so clear.

‘ _Fool,_ ’ Gwen heard Olvikan's mocking voice in her mind. ‘ _You never had a chance, human. But this has been entertaining, and that’s something I didn’t expect. Lower the Gauntlet now and let me have the Lehaïr and the Slayer. I’ll let you take the whore’s place by my side and rule the world as my regent however you see fit._ ’

Maintaining the conduit just a few seconds more and looking like she was contemplating on the offer, Gwen finally let her head and arm fall as if in defeat. ‘ _Forgive me, Rowan,_ ’ she sent out a final apology. Just as Olvikan lunged at her she made a quick move to the right and raised her left arm straight up, aiming for the gaping mouth of the demon.

“TAR FRIM!” she screamed, giving her everything to pull as much of the fire through the Glove as possible. She was fully aware that the amount she was drawing was more than she could survive. Time stretched and she was on fire – burning, searing, scorching. Then three-inch long fangs severed her arm at mid-forearm like butter and the whole world dissolved into a sea of flames.

* * *

Buffy and Faith had just reached the sidewalk holding each other upright when it happened. Seeming to both explode and implode at the same time, Sunnydale High collapsed in upon itself.

Buffy was looking at the spectacle with her mouth hanging open so she was not prepared when Faith collapsed to her knees on the grass and let out a heart-wrenching wail.

“Noooooo! Not now! Not after everything!”

Buffy had never in her life heard anything so pitiful. Faith’s scream of agony went on and on as Buffy crouched down herself and gathered the younger girl in a tight embrace. In the distance Buffy could see Xander soothe Willow in a similar manner. The young Wicca still looked like one paralyzed as she held onto Oz’s lifeless body.

“Faith, please,” Buffy whispered in the distraught Slayer’s ear. “I’m here... please, Faith... they could still be alright... Please, look at me.”

Tears drenched the shoulder of Buffy’s shirt as Faith’s chest heaved and she sucked in a heavy breath after another. Between the anguished breaths, Buffy could hear Faith quietly whispering. “I’m alone again. No, no, no. They left me, they left me. There’s no one...”

Buffy felt her own tears moisten her cheeks. She gently caressed Faith’s back and tried to soothe her with gentle words. “Shhh, Faith. I’m here for you. Gwen and Rowan; they could still be alright. Maybe the fire...”

Buffy was interrupted when Faith suddenly stood up.

“Faith... what?” Buffy asked in shock when she saw her sister Slayer’s determined pose.

“I’m going in there,” Faith said in an emotionless voice.

Faith shrugged off Buffy’s hand trying to grab hers and started running towards the main entrance. Buffy’s pleading shout followed her but she paid it no mind. Behind her she could also hear the sound of a fleet of sirens approaching the scene.

Surprisingly, the main entrance was more or less intact but everything beyond was mostly gone. The ceilings had collapsed in several places and taken down walls with them. All around her, she heard sounds of groaning structures, predicting still more structural collapse. She paid it no mind as she navigated her way in the direction of the library.

With great difficulty she eventually reached what had been the Scooby headquarters for so long. It was not there anymore. The main floor had given way to a huge pit, and all the shelves on the mezzanine level had either been burned to crisp of caved in. The smell of burning paper couldn’t fully hide the other lingering smell – that of burned flesh. She didn’t want to think about the source of that. She rushed to the edge of the large hole and peered down. About thirty feet below, a silvery disc glowed faintly in the dimness of the gaping chasm.

She looked frantically around for something to help her rappel down. Having found nothing, she was just about to not give a fuck and just jump down there when she heard a voice call her from the splintered library doors.

“You’re gonna need this,” Xander shouted to the desperate Slayer and indicated the long coil of sturdy rope he had thrown over his shoulder.

“Where did you...,” Faith started but Xander was already fastening the end of the rope to the twisted steel structures which were the remains of the cage.

Faith met Xander where the rope fell over the lip of the hole’s edge.

“Xander, I...,” Faith started.

“I know, Faith,” Xander nodded. “We’ll have time to discuss it later over a few... dozen beers, but now’s not the time. Go, I’ll be back with the rescue workers once they get here.”

* * *

Faith lowered herself to the cavern below and stepped on the glowing disc of silver. It was almost overwhelming to recall that Rowan and his companions had forged it almost twenty-seven millennia ago. And now it may have become a permanent reminder of the ultimate sacrifice he and her Watcher had made to prevent the Mayor from perhaps claiming the world for his own.

‘ _Why? Why did I let myself lo... care?’_ She thought with her hands clenched into fists and her teeth grinding painfully against each other. _‘Fuck, it hurts. Never, fucking never again I’ll let myself care._ ’

“WHY ME!” she screamed with her voice breaking.

“Take it down a notch, will you, lass?” an unfamiliar voice said from behind her.

She spun around like a flash and grabbed the Spirit Blade mid-turn. A shabbily-dressed man was looking at her from the other side of the Seal. Her Slayer sense tingled faintly; not a man.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“The name’s Whistler, love,” the stranger said and raised his threadbare fedora briefly.

“What do you want?”

“Feisty little thing, ain’t ya?” the one called Whistler said in an amused voice. “What do I want? Pretty much the same as you, Slayer.” He raised his hand and suddenly the whole cavern was illuminated by a steady light. Then Faith’s breathing was caught in her throat.

Rowan lay slumped against the remains of a wall which had so long hidden the Seal of Fire. Her Watcher was lying on the ground a few feet away from him in a pool of blood. Faith could see that the Watcher’s left arm ended in a stump just below the elbow. Her hair was singed almost all the way to her scalp and her clothes were a mass of charred cotton and silk. Her concern for her Watcher was only fleeting, however. She had no idea how she closed the distance, but the next she knew she was next to Rowan, raining kisses all over his face.

“Please,” she whispered. “You have to be alright.” When she received no reaction, she turned to Whistler who had also come to stand beside the still figure. “Can you help him? I’ll do anything,” she pleaded.

“Anything, eh?” Whistler mused with the corners of his mouth twisting upwards almost imperceptibly. “’Tis a rare bird you’ve found, Framadar.”

“You... you know him?” Faith asked incredulously, cradling Rowan’s head on her lap.

“Know him?” Whistler snorted and took out a cigarette from behind his ear. Faith could have sworn it hadn’t been there earlier. “I guess you can say that, love. He was my Commander when that Seal over there was put into action.”


	57. Chapter 57

“Your...?” Faith asked with her mouth hanging open. Above them she could hear the faint sound of rotary saws and other power tools closing in on their location.

“Just a sec, lass,” Whistler interrupted her. He took a glowing crystal rod out of the pocket of his jacket and snapped it in half. The sounds stopped immediately. “We’ll be needing a bit more time before this bunch gets rescued.”

“What did you...?” Faith stammered feeling totally out of the game.

“Bought us a little bit o’ extra time to get our business sorted out.”

“You...,” Faith snarled and laid Rowan’s head gently back on the ground. She stood up with the knife in her hand.

Whistler didn’t appear fazed at all. “Take it easy, lass,” he drawled, sounding almost bored. “You want him ok? You’d better listen to what I have to say.”

Seething for a second, Faith reluctantly returned the Spirit Blade back to its sheath.

“Good girl,” Whistler said with a wink. “Nice shank you got there. His?”

“Yeah.”

“Alrighty, then,” Whistler said and thrust his hands into his pockets. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a second. “What does he mean to you?”

“What?” Faith asked in shock but her heart started suddenly beating very fast.

“Simple question, love, simple answer. Do you love him? Do you hate him? Do you give a rat’s ass either way?”

“What has that to do with anything?” Faith asked angrily. “Can you help him or can you not? If the latter, why don’t you just fuck off?”

“Ah! Now we are getting somewhere,” Whistler said happily. “Yes, I can help him... or rather those I work for can help him. But... there are rules. There are always rules.”

“I don’t care about any fucking rules!” Faith growled. “Yeah, fine, ok. I love him. Is that what you wanted to hear?” She was so angry that it took her a few seconds to realize what she had just admitted. “No, I mean...,” she started to back-pedal.

“Yes?” Whistler asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing,” she sighed and shook her head in resignation.

“Was that so hard to admit?”

“What the fuck do I know about love!” she screamed. “He deserves...”

“You, Slayer,” Whistler interrupted her. “Do you have any idea what you have done today? You told Olvikan, one of the ancient ones, face-to-face that you belong to each other. Now you told me, and, yeah, through me to the Powers that you loved him. You don’t see that happening every day, yunno.”

Feeling all the strength leave her limbs, Faith fell to the floor beside Rowan.

“Now, back to business, love,” Whistler said and crouched down himself.

* * *

“Like I said, I was one of the Companions under his command back then when the Seals were activated. I was his aide, secretary, assistant... but you get the idea. He made me stay behind when he and Aurora went in to the Lower realm ‘cos he wanted to make sure his lady-love, Aryane, stayed there. You’ve heard about her part in the saga, I take it? Anyway, the Seals were activated and the whole Selenia went up in flames. I would have bit it as well had he not made Aurora send me to a safe location before the excrement hit the fan. Then, sometime after the Sealing, I got... recruited by the Powers that Be,” Whistler explained to the stunned Slayer. “Since then I’ve been doing all kinds of odd jobs for them, mostly something that seemed pretty insignificant at the time. Anyway, I’m not permitted to tell you more as you will have to... Well, we’ll see.

“Now, those two,” Whistler continued, nodding in Rowan and Gwen’s direction. “They are currently in a kind of limbo – not really living and not yet dead. And it all kinda boils down to what you’ll eventually decide.”

“Me?”

“Aye. You see, the amount of raw elemental power that flowed through him should have snuffed him out. But there’s a pesky little prophecy The Hegemon had the audacity to intone and root to reality when the two had their little pow-wow. Oh, I almost forgot this one, and it’s a doozy. The Mayor almost killed you while you were in that little coma, and your beau here still gave him a chance, a way out. That was what finally dipped the scales enough to well... allow the Powers to make this little intervention possible. But, like I said, there are rules.”

“So, what do they want?” Faith asked sarcastically.

“You.”

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?” Faith snorted. “Those bastards want to see if I’m willing to give my life for his?”

“Theirs,” Whistler corrected her.

“Whatever. And the answer is, yes.”

“Done.” Whistler intoned in a voice that rang like a gong.

“So, what do I need to do? Slit my wrists and feed him my blood?”

“No, you need to live, really live.”

“Live?” Faith asked with a sarcastic laugh. “What do you call this?” she pointed at herself.

“A sort of half-life, since you asked,” Whistler stated evenly.

“Why, you fucking...” Faith snarled.

“You’ve been a bad girl again, huh, slut?” Whistler asked jovially and Faith almost lost the control of her bladder.

* * *

“So, here’s the deal down to the nuts and bolts,” Whistler told the stunned Slayer. “You pledge yourself to the service of the Powers; become their champion. There’s a group of nice people called the Faithful, oh the irony, in New Zealand. They used to be part of the Council until a... dogmatic schism a few hundred years ago made them leave. Anyway, you will go to them for... oh, let’s say a year and they will do their best to help you find your full potential. Then, you are free to do as you wish; come back to Sunnyhell, find him... wherever he might be or find a nice seaside resort to live in. The only catch is, when the alarm goes off, you answer without hesitation. If you don’t, well, you’ll really wish you had. It may happen once two years from now, it may happen 100 times in the next 10 years or they might never call you. The Powers work in mysterious ways.”

“And if I say no,” Faith asked, needing to know, even though it was obvious what her choice would be.

“Things return back to normal and Destiny takes charge. Be prepared for two more funerals, though.”

“You win,” Faith sighed with her head held low.

“No, lass, you do,” Whistler grinned. “Big time. But you need to say it.”

“I pledge myself to the service of the Powers that Be for as long as needed. So, mote it be,” Faith intoned, the words seeming to flow out of her mouth on autopilot.

“Done,” Whistler proclaimed again.

“Now what?” Faith asked, looking around. Nothing visible had changed.

“Now? First, there are instructions, etc. waiting for you in your apartment. Oh, you meant, in general. Sorry, mind like a sieve these days. What do you want?”

“I want Rowan and Gwen to be alright, and fucking Destiny can kiss my ass.”

“Done,” Whistler nodded and crushed the remains of the crystal in his hand. Immediately the sound of power tools being operated somewhere above them filled the air.

Faith looked in wonder as Rowan drew a rattling breath. A few feet away, her Watcher twitched feebly and pieces of charred clothing fell away from her blistered back.

“See ya... partner,” she heard Whistler’s amused voice say. Then there was a ‘pop’ and he vanished into thin air.

* * *

Faith had never in her life seen anything as wonderful as the moment Rowan opened his eyes and those large amber orbs found hers after a moment of confusion. She managed a choked sob and then straddled Rowan’s waist and rested her forehead against his. “For you,” she whispered and covered his lips with hers, feeling tears of joy making their way down her face and eventually turning their kiss wet and salty.

It was only then that Faith noticed that something was amiss. She cupped Rowan’s face in her hands. “Why won’t you hold me?” she whispered looking into the eyes which seemed to bore directly into her soul.

“I... I can’t feel my body,” Rowan whispered back and a single tear made its way down his cheek. “The power we needed... the amount the Glove channelled... It was... too much. Gwen? Is she alive?”

One time this kind of interruption directed at another woman would have made her see red but now she leaned over and touched Gwen’s neck with her fingertips. She felt a weak but steady pulse. It also looked like her Watcher’s burns weren’t nearly as severe as just a few moments ago. “Yes, barely,” she nodded. Then an idea hit her like a bolt from a clear sky.

“Touch me,” she said. “With Spirit. Take from me what you need.”

“How do you...?” Rowan asked in astonishment.

“I got mad skills,” she grinned. “Get used to it.” She leaned in again and rested her forehead against his once more. “Do it.”

Being still somewhat light-headed Rowan did as Faith asked. Before he realized it could only end badly, he felt himself touch something familiar... unfocused, fleeting – a faint flame that still managed to touch his own spirit and set it alight.

He couldn’t believe it. Something like this shouldn’t be possible between a human and... But then again... the Slayer, both human and demon – a duality.

“You’re mine and I’m yours, Sunray,” Rowan whispered in the Old Tongue.

The unfamiliar but passionate words touched something deep within Faith. Then, from somewhere inside, a single word rose to her lips. She couldn’t understand its meaning but it seemed to vibrate between them until even its non-existent echo fainted to inaudibility.

“Yes,” Faith whispered back in the Old Tongue and felt Rowan’s arms around her waist.

After a minute or so of shocked silence while they just started into each other’s eyes, the spell was broken. Half-a-dozen ropes were suddenly lowered into the cavern from all around it.

“Faith!” she heard Xander yell from above.

“Xander!” she yelled back in relief. “Rowan and Gwen are alive! We need to get them out of here!”

“Really?” came a hesitant response from above, almost like a sob. “I’ll... I’ll just, oh, sweet God... Hurry men, hurry!”

“You have to stand back, Sir!” Faith heard a commanding voice give instructions. “You helped us find them but now you’ll have to let us do our work. Simmons, escort him out.”

* * *

Buffy and Xander walked among the multitude of fire trucks and ambulances parked outside the still smoking ruins of their school.

“I wonder...,” Xander started quietly.

“... if all this was worth it,” Buffy completed the thought.

The ambulances carrying Oz, Gwen and Rowan had just left with sirens blaring and the remaining paramedics were tending minor injuries in various spots on the lawn just outside the danger zone. Willow had naturally left with Oz, even though it was clear that their fallen comrade would be declared DOA at the hospital. Faith had left with Rowan and Gwen, threatening severe bodily harm to anyone who dared suggest she had herself checked first. Gwen was by far the most severely injured of those who still had a chance to survive.

Without really realizing it, Buffy kept glancing around, hoping to find the one remaining person still unaccounted for. After diving through the window, Angel had immediately gotten back to his feet and run to re-join the fight with the Mayor’s minions. Buffy hadn’t seen him since.

“He made it through the fight, Buffy,” Xander said, understanding the Slayer’s anxiety. “I guess maybe he... took off after.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Buffy nodded.

Xander nodded in understanding and turned away with a half-smile. His steps took him past the approaching Giles with whom he also exchanged a small nod.

“You all right?” Giles asked Buffy, laying a gentle hand on the Slayer’s arm.

“Not really,” Buffy confessed. “I’m just... did I do everything I could have? Last time we lost Kendra, now Oz. Gwen and Rowan, they...”

“You did very well,” Giles interrupted her. “They knew the risks and still followed your lead without hesitation.”

“Thank you, Giles,” Buffy said feeling a flush of relief.

“I... I ferreted these out of the wreckage,” Giles said hesitantly, producing three rolled-up and tied parchments out of his inside jacket pocket. “It may not interest you, but... I’d say you earned it,” he continued handing one of them to her. “These other two are for Xander and Willow.”

They looked at each other gravely, not really knowing what to say.

“Well, erm... I’d better go to the hospital myself and see how Gwen and Rowan are doing. I’d expect a lot of nurses are fighting for the right to tend to him.”

“Don’t worry, he has Faith to fend them off.”

“Yes, quite right. Well, erm... that’s something we could all use a little bit. Faith. In the spiritual sense of course.”

“Fire: bad, tree: pretty,” Buffy said in a robotic monotone.

“Oh, yes, sorry, erm... right.” Giles said somewhat awkwardly and started walking away.

Buffy was left alone within the circle of flashing red and blue lights holding her rolled-up diploma in her hands. Then something, a faint tingle, made her turn around. There, standing between two fire trucks and back-lighted by a glowing billow of smoke stood Angel.

They looked at each other across the distance for a long time until Angel turned around and walked away without a backward look.

* * *

Xander was sitting on the curb when he heard the sound of approaching high-heel shoes. He would recognize that sound anywhere.

“Cordy,” he said with a nod of his head.

“Well, that was the most fun you can have without actually having any fun,” Cordelia announced in her own personal way.

“Yeah, fun,” Xander said quietly. People had followed his plan on the quad, obeyed the commands he had issued, and not everyone had made it. He knew there were always victims in battles and wars but up until this fight he had always been the follower, not the one being responsible for so many others.

“Well, I did kick some vampire ass. I didn’t hate that.”

“You did well, Cordy,” Xander acknowledged with a small nod, watching Buffy walk slowly in their direction.

“You guys wanna take off?” Buffy asked as she stopped next to Xander. “I think we’ve pretty much done everything we can.”

“I’m for it,” Cordelia agreed.

“Are you ok, Buffy,” Xander asked, looking up from where he was sitting.

“Yeah. I’m ok,” Buffy said, realizing that she was. She would mourn Oz and wait anxiously for news about Gwen and Rowan but, yes, she was ok. “Could use a little sleep, though.”

“Yeah,” Xander agreed.

“If someone could just wake me when it’s time to go to college, that’d be great,” she said and crouched down next to Xander.

“Guys, take a moment to deal with this,” Cordelia said. “We survived.” Then, seeing the shocked looks on Xander and Buffy’s face, she continued. “I don’t mean the fight. High school.”

“Yeah, that was one hell of a battle,” Xander nodded. “One we all survived.”

“We’re taking a moment,” Cordelia said.

After a quiet pause, both Xander and Buffy stood up.

“And we’re done,” Cordelia nodded.


	58. Chapter 58

_Two days after Graduation_

Faith was fairly certain she had locked the door so she looked up from her packing in surprise and alarm when it was forcefully pushed open. Her hand moved instinctively behind her to grab the knife she kept under her belt.

Her heart picked up speed but she didn’t loosen her grip from the hilt when Rowan marched purposefully inside and kicked the door closed behind him with the heel of his shoe. His face, the face which had looked back at her with such wonder in the school basement was now totally emotionless; still breath-taking but this time like a statue carved out of brown stone. If this had been a movie, Faith suddenly visualized, he would have been holding a silenced gun in his hand. As it was, in this case it was a piece of paper. One that Faith recognized all too well.

“A note?” Rowan asked with a voice as emotionless as his face.

“Yeah,” she answered simply.

“At least I had the decency to tell you face-to-face that I’m going away. And you didn’t see fit to extend me the same courtesy?”

“I don’t do goodbyes, so, yeah. We are both ‘getting gone’, so make of it what you want.”

They looked at each other across the room, neither willing to budge an inch. It was a continuation of their old challenge, stretching all the way back to the day in the library when she and Buffy had first approached him. Step by step they started moving silently sideways, to the open area of the living room. Then, Faith launched herself at Rowan.

Rowan met her leap head-on and twisted her aside, so she landed on her back on the other side of the couch. Jumping on the couch, she bounced over the back with a flying kick which Rowan barely blocked with his arm. From there it went out of bounds. They were equally matched in speed, but Faith was stronger. Rowan’s technique was more controlled, which was an advantage in the closed quarters their fight was taking place. It was wild, it was exhilarating, it was beautiful, it was probably the most erotic thing Faith had ever experienced. Then they were in each other’s arms, growling like wild animals and kissing with wild abandon; their battle for dominance continuing inside their joined mouths.

“New Zealand?” Rowan snarled and attacked Faith’s mouth again.

With her tongue inside Rowan’s mouth, she pushed them backwards to a wall which cracked as Rowan’s back hit it.

“Heard it’s a nice place,” Faith growled.

Rowan flipped them around and a chest of drawers fell over and broke apart.

“And how did you come by that piece of info?” Rowan snapped and bit Faith’s neck just short of drawing blood.

Faith pushed back and they rolled over the couch breaking the TV table. Rowan’s shirt was torn to shreds as Faith’s nails bit his back through the fabric.

“Got told by the Powers,” Faith barked and squeezed Rowan’s hips with her powerful legs, eliciting a grunt from him.

Rowan lifted his hips off the floor and threw Faith on the couch which fell over.

“Please, do you think I’m stupid?” Rowan hissed.

Faith grinned at her cockily and winked.

Back on their feet again, they were drawn to each other like magnets. Grinding against each other, Rowan raised his knee to wrap his leg around Faith’s waist, smashing the TV in the process.

“You have no idea what I think,” Faith snorted, gyrating her hips around and creating just the right amount of friction between them.

They collapsed to the bedroom floor through the splintering door practically wrapped around each other.

Both were panting heavily as they lay on the floor in an X-shaped heap with Faith on top of Rowan. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. They had battled for dominance, neither willing to give an inch. And now...

“We have to stop,” Faith said quietly. She felt Rowan’s upper body move underneath her and when she turned her head to look at him, she saw he had raised himself to a sitting position and was leaning back on his straight arms.

“Ok, why?” Rowan asked curiously without a hint of anger in his voice.

Faith raised herself to her hands and knees and then straddled Rowan’s legs. They looked at each other solemnly.

“I... I want to do something properly once in my life,” Faith confessed.

“I see,” Rowan said with a nod. “Let’s go to bed.”

Faith blinked a few times and stood up. “Didn’t you hear...?”

“I heard, Sunray.” Rowan said softly and followed Faith back up. “And I’m not a hormone-driven fool the like of which you’re probably used to.” He leaned in and kissed the corner of Faith’s mouth with a feather-like touch. “You’re not the only one with mad skills,” he whispered in her ear, his words seeming to vibrate up and down her spine all the way to her clit.

Then he held out his hand to her. “As quick or slow as you want, always.”

* * *

Anticipation was not an emotion Faith was too much familiar with. But now standing in her bedroom, face to face with Rowan, she felt the uncertainty of not knowing what was going to happen tingle something inside her in a totally unexpected way. When she was in the process of “getting some”, events usually followed a predetermined pattern controlled by her – especially since she became the Slayer. As things were, there was no way anyone could take the control of the situation away from her by physical force. Trust had played a big part in that. The only one she trusted in bed was herself. She called the shots, she decided which way they would fuck – which was always her on top – and she was the one who decided which one should leave and when. No one had been able to challenge her regarding that, until...

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” Rowan asked quietly.

Besides being not used to giving basically any kind of compliments to people, Faith was equally uncomfortable with the sweet and sentimental stuff, so the question took her by total surprise. “Does ‘you have a tight little ass’ count?” she muttered, unable to avoid fidgeting in place. She shuddered briefly as she felt a caressing hand on said body part.

Rowan brought his other hand around her to get a firmer grip and pulled her against him. “Yes. Yes, it is,” he answered both the asked and the non-asked question.

“Yours is not that bad either,” she muttered, trying a compliment of her own for a change.

Rowan smiled and stepped around her, pressing himself against her back. He wrapped one of his arms around her as he moved and used his other hand to pull her hair gently to one side. Then he leaned in to bite her pulse point lightly. “One girl in all the world and here you are with me,” he whispered in her ear.

Faith turned around in his half-embrace in a flash and looked at him like he had grown a second head. “You could have _anyone_ you wanted, and you’re wondering about _me_? I’m just... me – a Slayer, sure, but when all’s said and done, I’m no prize.”

“No, you’re not,” Rowan said evenly, surprising Faith. “Never a prize to be won. A companion, a partner... equal.”

Faith still looked sceptical.

“Remember the school basement, Sunray?” Rowan reminded her. “’ _You’re mine and I’m yours._ ’,” he said in the Old Tongue, like he had done back then. “They are not just words, their meaning is much, much deeper than that. Not all it entails will be evident immediately, but you and I are connected, and the depth of that connection is something that only time will tell.”

“Time,” Faith whispered and lowered her head, feeling a deep sadness. “We can share the days as well as the nights, but underneath it all we are no different than Fang and B,” she finally admitted and raised her head again to look Rowan in the eyes. “You will live... forever, but I won’t. I have never wanted much – you know that. But is it too much to ask that I want...?”

“Don’t start measuring the boards for your coffin yet,” Rowan said gently and laid a finger on her lips. “Remember the Hegemon’s words? As you know, the Old Tongue doesn’t translate well into English; the _gestalt_ is lost. And I cannot offer a better translation than I did back then, not until you have learned the Old Tongue yourself; something you’re not yet mentally ready for. But remember this, it’s far from the only interpretation possible. One day you will _understand_ it.”

Faith blinked a few times.

“You have some hare-brained plan brewing behind those lovely eyes of yours, haven’t you, Bright Eyes? Are you going to challenge Death? I don’t think She would look kindly upon that, the cold bitch that She is. Isn’t The Hegemon not enough for you anymore, huh? I think it’s time someone took your ego down a few pegs.”

“I wasn’t made the _Framadar_ for nothing, Sunray. I always try to have plans B-Z ready to fall back to, just in case.”

“Justin who?” Faith asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“I walked into that one.”

“Ok, Bright Eyes, share.”

“No, Sunray. I once told Buffy in... another place that her mind was strong but undisciplined. You are the same, at least for the present. I don’t want you to have to stay constantly on alert for fear of involuntarily betraying me.”

“Isn’t that kind of thinking just a _leetle_ bit paranoid?”

“Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.”

Faith grinned and slapped his chest playfully.

Rowan took her hand into his and kissed the palm lightly. Faith took a step back and jumped backwards onto the bed. “Where does all this leave B?”

“She still has the power but not the spirit. Rupert will help her strengthen her mental abilities as much as possible,” Rowan said and climbed on the bed himself. He laid down on his side, facing Faith with his head propped on his hand.

“While you concentrate on me?” Faith asked coyly, turning to face Rowan.

“Any objections?” Rowan whispered and brought their lips together.

* * *

Faith lay in the bed beside Rowan, enjoying a post-coital bliss. Her left leg and arm were flung over his muscular body and her right hand was idly caressing his silky black hair. She burrowed her face in the space above Rowan’s shoulder and nibbled his fascinating pointed ear with her lips. ‘ _We made love,_ ’ she grinned. ‘ _Now I finally know what it_ means.’

Over the course of several hours, Rowan had been gentle and he had been rough. She had been dominating and she had been submissive. He had worshipped every inch of her body and she had repeatedly both whispered and screamed his name. When her instincts had in turn screamed at her to “get gone”, Rowan had not attempted to physically stop her. “Never be afraid to show your vulnerable side to me, Sunray. With me, you can always let go,” he had whispered in her ear when she tensed. She had realized that he would let her leave if that was what she really wanted. He wouldn’t beg to make her stay but he would understand if she didn’t.

‘ _Get some and get gone... fuck that. I’m never getting gone from this._ ’

“What I told you earlier; it was all true,” she whispered in Rowan’s ear. “I made a deal with the Powers. Your and Gwen’s life for a stint as their beck-and-call girl.”

Rowan turned to face her in a flash. He gently cupped her face in his hands. “Oh, Sunray,” he said hoarsely.

Faith was waiting for him to continue with something like “you shouldn’t have” or “I’m not worth it” or “that was really stupid”. None of that came. Instead Rowan just looked at her in astonished wonder.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Rowan eventually asked.

“I thought you’d disapprove. Besides, I thought I wasn’t allowed to. Then it occurred to me that if I’m able to, it’s probably alright.”

“I definitely don’t disapprove,” Rowan said and kissed her. “I wish you already knew the Old Tongue, so I could really tell you how I feel.”

Faith was baffled. Why was it such a big deal to him? She must have asked something to that effect since Rowan grinned widely.

“I was just recalling what I know of the benefits and perks of such a servitude.”

“Yeah?” Faith blinked. She hadn’t really thought that there might be something else than just her having made an even exchange for Gwen and Rowan’s life. “Such as?”

“Well, they are known to at least compensate for time spent.”

“With what?”

“Time, of course. What else could you compensate that with?”

Faith was left with her mouth hanging open. “So, for all the time I spend...”

“Yes.”

“Fuck me!” she managed to blurt out as her brain short-circuited.

“Think I will.”

* * *

It was much later and Faith was lying lazily on top of Rowan. She moved her hips around, back and forth, and side to side in small, random movements, wanting to feel the still-hard shaft inside her touch every possible pleasure spot again and again. Rowan’s cock wasn’t the longest she’d ever had, nor the thickest, but it filled her in some kind of subtle way that she would call perfect. ‘ _Slayer stamina and demon endurance. Gotta love that._ ’

“Don’t ever leave me,” she whispered, feeling sleep take over her.

“Never, Sunray,” Rowan answered quietly and kissed the top of Faith’s head. He spent a long time silently looking at his lover’s sleeping face – heartbreakingly beautiful in the dim room, faintly illuminated by the nightlight next to the splintered living room door.

* * *

_Buffy sighed contently as Faith ran her fingers idly through her blonde tresses. Faith and Rowan were half-sitting against the headboard of the bed with the brunette leaning her head against Rowan’s firm shoulder. Buffy was lying next to Faith with her head on her sister Slayer’s lap._

_She looked out of the window at the night sky and saw a bright point of light pulsing faintly against the pitch-black background._

_“What star is that?” she asked languidly._

_“Not a star, B. It’s the planet Venus,” Faith answered._

_“The Star of Morning,” Rowan nodded. “I used to call Aurora that: ‘Little Star of the Morning’.”_

_“_ Danamar tois Naschedar, _” Faith translated._

_“Very good, Sunray,” Rowan said approvingly and kissed his girlfriend._

_They stayed like that in perfect contentment until the there was a hint of pale light reaching up to the black sky._

_“It can’t be morning yet,” Buffy groaned._

_“Better get ready, B,” Faith said quietly. “Dawn’s coming in.”_

* * *

“Dawn’s coming in,” Buffy whispered as she woke up in her bed, alone. It was still early but the sky definitely had that faint glow which heralded a new dawn.


	59. Chapter 59

Faith took one last look at her still sleeping lover, fixing his angelic features in her mind. She shouldered the duffel bag she had packed earlier and patted her jacket pocket, making sure that her precious instructions and her newly-arrived passport were definitely there. Her bag contained most of her earthly possessions including her CD player and the wrapped-up kitchen knives. The Spirit Blade she kept in its usual place – under the waistband of her jeans in the small of her back.

It was still nearly dark as she started marching down the Union Street towards Harbour Drive which led to Sunnydale Harbour. Her instructions had listed a ship, a pier, a time. Sunnydale was slowly waking up around her and she smiled serenely. She was used to leaving places and the promise of a new road ahead of her always made her exited. This time though, she had grown roots, still faint but definitely there. She had no intention of cutting them off; they would accommodate the distance and lie there, waiting, for as long as needed.

The harbourmaster took one look at the card she presented him and waved her through. Pier 1 was the farthest away from the harbour’s main gate but she reached her designated cargo ship “Menkalinan” well before its scheduled departure.

“Miss Lehane?” someone called from aboard as she reached the ship’s gangway.

“Yeah,” she called back.

“Please, come aboard. My name’s Keith. I’m the third mate of ‘Menkalinan’. I’ll show you to your cabin.”

* * *

Her cabin for the trans-Pacific to Auckland was small but homey. She didn’t waste time emptying her bag to the included closet and drawers, but rushed back to the deck eager to see the ship take it to the sea. She made it to the dock-side railing in record time and then she stopped in her tracks as she saw the figure standing on the dock, next to the gangway with hands in their trouser pockets. Without hesitation she made her way down the gangway and was met mid-way with the one who she realized truly held her heart.

She poured her everything to the kiss and felt it being returned with equal passion.

“I...,” she started hesitantly. She realized there was no doubt about what she was feeling but her vocal cords seemed to be totally disconnected from the part of her brain that formed the thoughts giving meaning to the words.

“Hush, Sunray,” Rowan said gently. “I want to hear you say it when I next see you.” He leaned in and whispered four words in her ear.

* * *

The ship’s horn let out a short blast and the gangway was pulled back in. Faith was standing by the port railing never taking her eyes away from Rowan. The whole ship shook as the powerful engines started pushing it away from the dock, assisted by two tugboats. It took a long time for the ship to reach a distance from which her Slayer sight could no longer see the still figure standing on the dock, looking like a beautiful and unique statue belonging to a time long past.


	60. Epilogue - Come Back To Me

Giles lowered the phone back to the receiver, staring straight ahead in mute shock. The handset missed its intended place and was left swinging back and forth from its cord. He practically staggered to the liquor cabinet and took out a glass and a bottle of whisky. Then, having forgotten he already had a glass, took out another one. He poured himself a triple measure and kept on pouring until the golden liquid overtopped the rim of the glass. He could still hear Quentin’s evenly delivered words in his ear. _Fully reinstated... senior Watcher... Council’s full support... Remuneration... Gwen, appointed as the new secretary of the Council’s executive board._

He drank half of the glass in one pull and felt the burning liquid bring a measure of calmness over him. After a few minutes of just breathing in and out, he went to his record cabinet. He took out “The Magic Flute” and put the first disc on the turntable. It had to be magic.

* * *

Rowan and Xander were sitting on a couch in the Bronze watching Buffy and Cordelia on the dance floor. Xander was sipping from a bottle of beer, and Rowan was idly twirling the celery stalk in his Bloody Mary. He was wearing his glamour this time around. Their current selection of drinks was made possible by Rowan’s newly arrived UK passport which conveniently made “Rowan Shea” 21 years old, and an open tab – courtesy of the Council of Watchers.

“So, you’ll be leaving tomorrow?” Xander asked after having drained the bottle. There was another one, yet untouched, in front of him.

“Yes,” Rowan answered. “First Class all the way to London.”

Xander picked up the new bottle, leaned closer and clinked Rowan’s glass with it. “You’re moving up in the world, my friend. Who knows, maybe the Queen will knight you, or something.”

“I certainly hope not,” Rowan snorted. “Can you imagine Faith ever letting me live that one down?”

Xander looked smug. “I dunno... Rank has its privileges, _Framadar_. Speaking of ‘she-of-little-Faith’...” Xander gave his friend a conspiratorial look. “What really happened between you two in Faith’s apartment.”

Rowan took a long swig from his glass. “Real swordsmen don’t discuss their fencing partners.”

“Come on, man,” Xander pouted. “Not all the sordid details but, ye gods, just a little something to... feed my fantasies on my lonely travels.”

“Fine,” Rowan sighed. “I went there to confront her about the whole ‘get gone’ deal.”

“Yeah?” he said weakly. He briefly recalled himself confronting a drunken Faith in her motel room. He took a long pull from the new bottle.

“There were a few words and then we proceeded to beat the shit out of each other to see which one would land on top.”

The spray of beer out of Xander’s mouth was quite impressive.

“And that’s when the place got demolished?” Xander’s voice was barely audible over the music at this point.

“No, that happened later,” Rowan said evenly. He glanced at Xander who was fidgeting in his seat, his eyes big as saucers. “Uncomfortable?” he winked.

“Just a... cramp in my leg, that’s all. Dehydration. I’ll be alright in a mo,” Xander said quickly and took another swig while crossing his legs. He was saved from further embarrassment as they were approached by two guys; one of them older, the other one of Xander’s age. The older one had one of his arms in a cast.

“Mike!” Rowan said joyfully and rose up to hug his friend; carefully because of the cast. “How are you?”

“Rowan, I want you to meet Patrick,” Mike said and put his arm around the boy who had accompanied him.

Patrick and Rowan shook hands. “Say, aren’t you that guy... with Mikey... on the table?” Patrick asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, and you were in the audience with the football team,” Rowan answered, remembering him as the quiet one who had looked at them dejectedly.

Patrick was taken aback. “I’m surprised you remember. I thought it would come to blows between you and Lance.” Pause. “Look, I...”

Rowan interrupted him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy for you two. Incidentally... Wait here. I’ll get drinks for you.”

When Rowan had gone over to the bar, Mike looked at Xander uncomfortably. “Is he... is he with you now?”

“Me? Rowan? Hell, no,” Xander answered with a small laugh. “He’s with probably the sexiest super-chick that has graced Sunnydale with their presence since time immemorial.”

“A girl? Is she here?” Mike asked looking around the club and fixing his gaze briefly on Cordelia. Xander followed his gaze. “Nah,” he shook his head. “You’d instantly know if she were.”

“You mean...?” Mike asked and nudged his head in Cordelia’s direction.

“Oh, yeah,” Xander said. “Regardless.”

“Holy shit,” Mike said in awe. “Does she know... you know... about him?”

“Oh, yeah,” Xander repeated and took another swig.

Rowan came back to the table carrying three beers and another Bloody Mary. “Patrick, Mike. The tab is open for you in the bar for tonight. Just mention ‘Council’ when you go get yourself drinks.”

“Shit, no, we can’t...,” Mike said with his mouth hanging open.

“You can and you will. Don’t worry, it’s not my money. Everything gets paid from a foreign expense account.”

Mike and Patrick went to sit at a nearby table after having thanked Rowan profusely.

“Is that guy for fucking real?” Patrick whispered in Mike’s ear after having surreptitiously kissed it a few times.

“I asked the same question myself once,” Mike said while gently squeezing Patrick’s leg under the table.

“And...?”

“You have no idea.”

On the couch Xander and Rowan continued their idle discussion.

“How’s your Great American Tour coming about?” Rowan asked.

“Fine-ish. The car’s still being serviced. Don’t want it breaking down, again, before I even get out of California.”

“Maybe you should have done something more than just kick the tires when you bought it like... open the hood, perhaps?”

“Details, details,” Xander said dismissively with a wave of his hand. “The main thing is that I’ll be on the road on Monday.”

There was a comfortable silence as the two sipped from their drinks and watched their friends on the dance floor.

“It’s been quite a year,” Xander said in a thoughtful voice, more to himself than to Rowan. “Ever since Jesse died, it was basically just me, Wills and Buff, and Giles, of course; Angel and Cordy too. Then Oz was there but it was through Willow that he became to be part of the gang. He was deep as the Mariana Trench but didn’t share like at all; even less than Faith. I didn’t even know his real name was Daniel Osbourne until I saw the obituary. And then you came along and pretty much liked me because I’m me.” Here Xander took a long pull from his bottle. “It’s just... hard to imagine, knowing what you are and what you’ve done. You’re here, now, sitting on a couch in the Bronze with me. It’s just... I dunno, unreal.”

“You see more than you usually let on, Xander,” Rowan said. “But it’s not just me, you know. Your name is prominently mentioned in the original Watcher Diaries Giles and Gwen have kept, and those will eventually replace the censored ones Gwen initially sent to the Council. New Watchers and Potential Slayers will definitely know your name when their time comes. I have no doubt that the Battle of the Ascension will be used as a case study in the Council’s Academy for years to come.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. I’m sure you know this quote; ‘When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.’ Your name will definitely be part of the Slayer legend along with Willow’s. You have shown that a Slayer with friends willing to fight with her and for her runs circles around a lone Slayer with just an abstract notion of winning to cheer her on.”

Xander hesitated for a moment. “Still not gay here but, you know...,” he started and took Rowan into a forceful hug.

Rowan hugged him back just as enthusiastically. “You know, Xander, with Mike obviously out of the way...,” he started impishly.

“Nah, I’m not that far gone yet,” Xander laughed but didn’t loosen his embrace.

Rowan glanced around. The place where they were sitting was quite dark and no-one was paying them any attention. “Not even when...,” he started.

Xander felt like a weak electric charge had gone through him and he let go of Rowan. Leaning back he saw that Rowan had dropped his glamour and his eyes were glowing in the dimness of the club.

Xander couldn’t help but smile. “I said ‘wow’ then, remember. I’ll say it again. ‘Wow’. But I know my limits. You... I don’t know if you have any. But there’s one thing...”

Still smiling Xander gently touched Rowan’s face and slid his fingers down his cheek. “Now we’re even,” he said with a smirk.

Rowan’s winked at him in return and Xander touched his raised fist with his own and nodded in understanding.

“You know...,” Xander said hesitantly after a few minutes of thoughtful silence. “With Faith and you all over the world, Buffy and Willow starting the college, Cordelia leaving for L.A., Angel having already left, and me... wherever the road takes me, it’s quite possible that the old Scooby gang will never get together again.”

“Sure you will.”

“Don’t say ‘you’,” Xander wiggled his finger in light admonishment. “Say ‘we’. Whatever may happen in the future, _we_ will be the Old Guard; those of us who were there when we stopped the Ascension: Buff, Wills, me, you, Faith, Cordy, Angel, Giles and Gwen. Even with one of us missing, we might have lost everything. We’ll try to meet on that day annually to celebrate the victory and remember those fallen, namely Oz. Not everyone can be there every time, but if even two of us will make it, it will be worth it.”

They had been so engrossed in their discussion that neither noticed that Buffy and Cordelia had left the dance floor and were now standing behind them. To Xander's surprise the two girls were accompanied by Willow who was being held in a one-armed hug by Buffy. Xander hadn't seen the redhead since she left the school grounds in the ambulance with Oz's body - she had not opened the door the few times he had come knocking, neither had she answered to any calls. She looked grief-stricken with black-circled eyes, red from crying. Xander was already half-way up from his seat but an almost imperceptible shake of her head made him sit down again.

“Wow, Xand. That was some speech,” Buffy said, clearly moved by his words.

“Here, here,” Willow said with a sad smile. What Xander had said about Oz was touching.

“You know, we should have our own motto,” Cordelia said.

“Great idea,” Buffy said. “Wills, Rowan. You’re the brains of this outfit. Can you come up with a good one?”

“You mean something like ‘All for one and one for all’ or ‘We few, we happy few, we band of brothers’?” Rowan said, trying to keep his face straight.

Buffy was impressed. “Those are great!” she exclaimed. “I vote for the first one.”

“Sorry, Buff,” Willow said with a lop-sided grin which brought a smile to Xander's face as well. “Both have been used already. I think it should be something simple. We came through fire to where we are now. Maybe we should incorporate something of that?”

“Through fire?” Xander said slowly. Everyone turned their eyes to him.

“ _Teidë Danzaltharon_ ,” Rowan said with an approving nod.

“I like it,” Cordelia beamed.

* * *

**A/N** : _Suggested listening:_ Enya – Dark Sky Island

The Sun was slowly setting in the west, making it look like the ship was ploughing through a field of gold. Faith sat alone in the ship’s bow with her legs dangling over the side. Occasional sprays of seawater made it all the way up to where she was sitting. The evening was warm and the gentle sea wind made the security chains around the elevated platform clink occasionally. She felt equally sad and happy as she was playing back Rowan’s final words in her head.

‘ _Come back to me._ ’

She heard someone climb up the short ladders to the platform from the front deck below and she quickly wiped the few escaped tears away from her cheeks.

“Miss? Dinner,” she heard Keith call her politely.

She rose up and took a deep breath facing the Sun.

‘ _Come back to me._ ’

For the first time in her life she had something to go back to.

THE END... FOR NOW


End file.
